


Heart of a Werewolf

by kherezae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-22 20:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 47,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6093805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kherezae/pseuds/kherezae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus has always battled with the monster inside him that comes out at the full moon. Ever since they discovered his secret, his friends have helped with his struggle, but they don't seem to fully understand it. He has nightmares of hurting them, of tearing them apart, but they treat the whole thing like a monthly excuse to galavant around Hogsmeade or the school grounds.</p><p>And then, on a lark, Sirius reveals to a suspicious Severus Snape the means to follow Remus under the Whomping Willow. He didn't mean any real harm. He has never seen Remus for the dangerous creature he becomes every month. Still, the betrayal of it hurts Remus to his core.</p><p>Sometimes it takes nearly destroying a friendship to realize that it could be something more.</p><p>[Complete]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Restless

_Friday, January 4_ _(Sixth Year)_

 

_ Moony _

Floating in the lake makes me feel weightless, though even gentle motions stirring the water pull at my arms and legs. The night sky above is black velvet punctuated by stars.  It’s a full moon.  It seems hazy, tinged a bit green.  The world is blanketed in quiet. It feels eerie.

The Snitch wafts playfully over me, glinting in the moonlight.  James streaks after it on his broomstick, the Quaffle tucked under his arm. He isn’t in Quidditch robes.  He seems to be wearing pajamas.

Padfoot chases after James in his customary dog form, but he’s sprouted enormous, black-feathered wings that shine in the moonlight.  Neither of them notice me below them, floating in the lake, carefree.  Careless.  Not sure which.

I turn my head, and Peter is beside me.  He speaks, his voice oddly distant.  Muffled.  “Remus—shouldn’t you be a werewolf?”  He looks fearfully up at the full moon, and I follow his gaze.

Oh yes.  I’ve forgotten.  It seems ridiculous, and I’m about to laugh when the transformation sets in.  I feel it growing in my bones—everything stretching, fur erupting from my skin.  I thrash in the water, half man and half wolf. I might drown… but that isn’t what frightens me.

The wolf, the wolf, not the wolf!  I start to yell, but my vocal cords are changing, and anyway, the still night seems to have swallowed my voice.  I swim awkwardly toward the shore; Peter beats me there and climbs out, oddly dry, dressed in his Hogwarts robes.  James and Padfoot land there. Sirius changes back into a human, wearing just his boxers, but he still has those enormous black wings, like some sort of dark angel.  What are they doing?  The werewolf is taking over—if they don’t change into their Animagus forms—

My vision tunnels, becoming blurred around the edges.  I feel a frantic panic rising inside, but it’s becoming dim, muffled… and an intense hunger takes over.  When I look at my friends, I begin to see prey.

_ No!  I’m not the werewolf, no, I won’t—won’t hurt them— _

When I wake, it’s in a cold sweat, my heart thundering in my chest.  I instantly jerk my head around to look out the window—I can only see a small part of the moon, but that’s enough.  It’s not full yet. Not for a couple days.  Still, I’m slow to relax. My heart pounds no less painfully in my ears.

“Remus?”

Glancing toward the source of the voice, I see James sitting up in bed, his covers pooled around his waist.  He’s squinting blearily, not wearing his glasses, and his hair’s in worse disarray than usual. If that’s possible.  I force myself to calm down; I didn’t mean to wake anyone.  “I’m… I’m fine.  Strange dream, that’s all.”

“Sounded like a—a nightmare,” he says through a yawn.  Sirius rolls over in bed and mutters something in his sleep; I glance over at what I can see of him, which happens to be a leg sticking out of his covers and a hand draped over his face.

I manage to collect myself, pulling together a cavalier tone.  “Nah, I’m okay—sorry to wake you.”  I can tell that my tone sounds fake, but sleepy James doesn’t notice.  He just nods and lies back down with a heavy thump.

I take one last glance out the window.  It’s started snowing very lightly, tiny flecks of white spiraling down from the sky and giving the moon a broader halo.  I shudder faintly and turn away, lying down on my side, blankets pulled up to my chin like a feeble shield against the moon, my worst fear and enemy.

* * *

“You’re looking awful, Moony,” Sirius informs me quietly as we file into History of Magic.  It’s our first class of the day. Whoever set up the schedule that way must have been mad, because it’s hard enough waking up in the morning without having to sit through the dull droning of Professor Binns.  When you’re tired enough, his rhythmic speech begins to seem like a sort of lullaby.  Of course, Sirius, James, and Peter are glad for the extra sleep.  I usually end up taking most of the notes.

“Three more days,” James adds, his voice cheery and yet sluggish at the same time.  I’m not sure how he manages it.  He lugs his books to a desk and drops them with a thud, collapsing into his seat and resting his head sideways on his folded arms so that he’s still looking at us.  “Why didn’t you make it to breakfast?”

“I wasn’t hungry,” I say, yawning; lie.  Truth: I nearly overslept, despite James and Peter in turn shaking me to wake me before they went down into the common room.  I didn’t sleep well, and I had more than one nightmare, some worse than others.

Once the students have settled and begun chattering lazily to one another, Professor Binns drifts in through the blackboard, clearing his throat to silence the class.  The customary stupor that accompanies his teaching begins to descend on us even before he tells us what page to turn to in our books.

I groan quietly and press my face to the desk. The polished wood is cool against my forehead.  Folding my arms around my head to block out the light, I don’t even bother turning to page 462 as Professor Binns launches into a monotonous account of some sort of half-breed persecution.  Even the mention of werewolves hardly rouses my interest.

Something that feels suspiciously like Sirius’ finger pokes my ribs. I jump a bit, more tickled than startled, but cover it by acting as if I’ve just woken up from napping.

As it turns out, I have, and I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep.  Glancing around, I notice that most of the class is asleep or daydreaming.  James and Sirius are eyeing me curiously. I glance back at Peter and find him staring, too.  “What?” I mouth. I know they can’t be up to mischief.  Mischief is particularly difficult to stir up in History of Magic, and isn’t usually worth it since Professor Binns is nearly unshakable.  He doesn’t have much of a temper at all.  Shame; if ever a class needed mischief, it’s this one.

“You were asleep,” James says, as if Snape has suddenly become the star player of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

“ _ You _ normally are,” I retort grumpily, shifting in my seat.  My rear has fallen asleep.  A grimace wrinkles my nose.

“But who’s going to take our notes?” Sirius asks innocently.  I stare at him incredulously for a moment before I realize that he’s teasing—well, at least halfway teasing, but that’s normal for him.

I glance up at Professor Binns, but he doesn’t seem to notice that we’re whispering to one another.  It doesn’t surprise me.  He seems like he could teach in the same monotone if the sky turned yellow and Muggles invaded the school.  Glancing back across the aisle to Sirius, I reply a bit too waspishly, “Why don’t  _ you _ take notes for  _ me _ , for once?”

He takes it in good humor, but I can tell the three of them are perplexed at my behavior.  I sigh and drop my head back to the desk a bit roughly, returning to my nap.

* * *

_ Padfoot _

“He’s acting odd,” I complain to James over our cup of bones in Divination.  It’s the only class we don’t take with Remus.  Remus didn’t see the point, and besides, he had been worried the teacher would be able to see that he’s a werewolf.  Not likely.  Divination is rubbish, if you ask me, but it’s easy enough—when in doubt, make things up.  It works enough that we don’t fail the class, at least.

“He always acts odd around the full moon.” James says and sighs, prodding our cup of bones with his wand as if hoping that’ll encourage it to work better.  “S’pose I would, too, in that position.”  He straightens and shakes the cup before turning it over and letting the little tiles scatter out on the table surface.  I look up shiftily at the professor, an old, superstitious black man, and wonder how anyone’s expected to see anything in the bones.  They just look like randomly placed little pieces of tile to me.  James sighs again and flips absently through the pages of his book, trying half-heartedly to find what the placement of each bone signifies.  Then, with a frown, he glances up at me and says, “He had a nightmare last night, I think.  Woke me up saying stuff in his sleep.  Almost yelled, once.”

“Moony, a nightmare?” I snicker.  I can’t help it.  I haven’t had nightmares since I was small.  I figured everyone but Snivellus was over them by now.

James gives me a rueful sort of disapproving frown, but can’t help grinning a little himself.  He scribbles something on our parchment and doesn’t say anything for a moment, but then: “I don’t guess I blame him, with the full moon coming up.  You see how beaten up he is from when he spent the full moons alone… I imagine it’d be horrible, cooped up alone as a werewolf, clawing at yourself like that.”  He’s talking very quietly, of course, and sending careful glances the professor’s way to be sure he isn’t paying attention.  I think James gives Professor Djamba more credit than he deserves. No way the old man, whose head is drooping onto his chest as he begins to nod off, can use his ‘Inner Eye’ to know what we’re talking about.

“But he doesn’t have any reason to have nightmares anymore,” I point out, looking back at Prongs and dismissing the professor from my mind.  When we’re with him, Remus can keep his head as a werewolf.  We can even roam the grounds and Hogsmeade.  James and I are big enough to keep Remus in line if he happens to get a bit more wolfish than human. James knows that.

James just shrugs, though, collecting the bones back into our cup.  Glancing over at our parchment to see what we have so far, I note that we’re a throw short.  The bell’s due to ring any minute.  The recordings for the four throws we have are ridiculous all by themselves.  One James wrote as, ‘On Thursday, a sloth will eat a bull and get indigestion.’  I snort.  “Is that even possible?”

“What?” James asks.

I point to the prediction, smirking.  “Even if it is, who wants to know about that, anyway?”

He laughs.  “Stop it, Sirius, I need to get one more throw done.”

“Just make it up,” I tell him.  “I can make up something perfect.”  In a mysterious voice, I murmur, “‘When Jupiter is in Venus’ third house, an ant will cater a horsefly’s party.’”  Eerie was the intended effect, but by the way James bursts out laughing—even getting a snort in—it didn’t work out that way.  I manage to keep up my ‘What?  I’m serious!’ façade for a good twelve seconds, which is a record for me, before I dissolve into laughter as well.

And then the bell rings.  Prongs forces himself to stop laughing and scribbles down my ‘prediction’ since we don’t have anything better, then passes it to the professor before we head down to the Great Hall for lunch.

We join the crowd of students surging in the doors to the Great Hall, all chattering excitedly.  I can hear several different conversations buzzing around me. One group of students is still talking about the front page of the Daily Prophet this morning.  My stomach tightens a little as I remember it. You-Know-Who making yet another move… He’s killed some very powerful wizards, and it has everyone up in a stir, frightened.  But it’s only a cursory fear for most.  We’re in Hogwarts; that’s outside Hogwarts’ walls.  We’re sheltered, here.

James and I make our way to Gryffindor table, where we meet Remus and Peter, who didn’t have to walk as far from their last classes—in fact, Peter had been on break, I think.  I sit down in the chair beside Remus. James, having caught sight of Lily, hardly seems to know what he’s doing as he lowers himself into the chair next to mine.  He’s making love-eyes at the redhead, but she still won’t give him the time of day.  Still, I’m fairly certain she likes him more than she lets on.

I roll my eyes and glance around the Great Hall.  The plates are already filled, and most of the seated students are eating as they chatter excitedly (and in some cases apprehensively) to one another.  Over at the Slytherin table, Snivellus is catching almost as much grief from his own House as from us Marauders. I smirk. Serves the greasy little git right. I watch him pick at his food for a moment before I decide that his filthy hair is making me nauseous, and then I turn my attention back to my own table.

Remus still looks awful.  I watch him push a sausage roll around his plate with his fork, looking very much like he has no appetite, and frown.  “C’mon, Rems, you didn’t eat anything this morning—you’ve  _ got _ to be starving.”

He looks up at me, faintly startled, and manages a small grin, presumably at the old nickname.  With a sigh, he tells me, “I am, but I don’t think I can stomach anything.”

I feel badly for him.  He definitely  _ looks _ like he’s nauseous, and I can tell he didn’t sleep well at all.  His hair’s tangled and messy like he didn’t have time even to give it a short comb-through; I can just run my fingers through my hair and it looks fine, but Remus and James aren’t that way.  His skin is pallid and sallow, especially on his face, lending him that nauseous look.  “Nightmares?” I ask softly, and suddenly it doesn’t seem amusing at all.  I remember laughing in Divination and feel a little guilty.

Remus looks up at me sharply and stutters, “Wha—no, I just… I just didn’t sleep well.  Full moon’s only in three nights, after all…”  He glances past me to James a little suspiciously, but I can tell he didn’t intend for me to notice.

I’m about to tell him that it’s okay, I understand, but I decide it’s better just to leave it alone.  I pick up a piece of bread from my plate and start chewing it thoughtfully.  Beside me, James is running his fingers through his hair as if to be sure it’s still nice and messy.  He works hard to get that wind-blown, carefree look; me, I just get dressed and finger-comb my hair once, and I’m ready for the day.  Apparently, it works well enough.  The girls seem to think I’m fairly good-looking.

“Remus,” Peter squeaks through a mouthful of roast beef, “what’re we doing this time?  Exploring Hogsmeade?  Is the map almost done?  Will we finish it this time?”  When he talks with his mouth full, he bears a strong resemblance to his Animagus form.

Moony shrugs a little and hesitantly takes a bite of his sausage.  I can tell he has trouble swallowing it, and after that, he gives up on lunch.  He pushes his chair back from the table, making his way out of the Great Hall.

Remus’ departure finally breaks James out of his Lily-staring session.  Looking around, he notices that our werewolf friend is gone and gives me a curious expression.  “Where did Remus go?”  The food vanishes from Remus’ abandoned plate, and James adds as an afterthought, “He hardly ate.”

“He’s feeling worse than usual,” I reply, frowning.  But I dismiss my worries and turn to James with a mischievous grin on my face.  “So, Prongs, how’s the Lily-gazing going?”

He gives me a dry but amused expression as he rolls his eyes, shoving me.  We both laugh, and then James begins shoveling food in his mouth, and I follow suit.  He’s trying not to embarrass himself again, but I can’t miss the little glances he keeps shooting up the table at Lily even as he eats.

Really, he’s hopeless.


	2. Sparks

_ Saturday, January 5 (Sixth Year) _

 

_ Padfoot _

James jabs me in the ribs with his elbow and hisses for me to be quiet, but I can’t stop laughing.  I (barely) manage to keep it under control, but I’m shaking with it as I watch Snivellus around the corner. He’s practically in tears after tripping over the wire we stretched across the hallway and spilling ink all over his books.  He’s trying to salvage a couple pieces of parchment—probably his homework—but I can already tell that there’s no way he’s going to swipe the ink off so that his professors can read his work.  He looks furious, and he keeps glancing around suspiciously between attempts at cleaning his books.

Remus flicks his wand, and the trip wire disappears.  “Good thinking,” I whisper as I try to contain my laughter.  I wipe my eyes and try to breathe.  “‘But Professor, someone tripped me,’” I whine in a high-pitched imitation of Snivellus’ voice.  “‘Mr. Snape, I don’t see a trip wire anywhere.  Don’t try to blame someone else because you tripped and ruined your homework.’”

I hear an angry huff behind me, and all four of us turn around.  Lily is standing behind us, looking infuriated, with her hands on her hips.  I’ve gotta hand it to James, he’s got good taste.  She’s cute when she’s angry, her green eyes flashing with spirit.  “That wasn’t funny!” she whispers furiously.  “He probably worked hard on his homework, and he’ll get no credit for it!”

“That’s the beauty in it,” I reply smugly, grinning.  Looking at the other Marauders, I see that Remus is carefully avoiding Lily’s gaze, looking completely sober.  James doesn’t seem to know how to react. The last few times Lily has seen us pulling mean jokes on Snivellus (regardless of how much he deserves it), she has gotten very angry, just like this.  I think James is starting to realize that she isn’t kidding, and it isn’t helping his chances with her to act smug about the whole thing.  He nervously runs a hand through his hair, eyes darting between her and me.  Only Peter still looks remotely pleased about the successful prank, but he also looks uncertain.

“Who’s there?”

We all freeze, turning to peek around the corner.  Snivellus is livid.  He’s looking around; the snowstorm outside makes it dark enough in the corridors that our heads aren’t entirely obvious peeping around the corner.

“I know you’re there, and you’re going to get it!” he says, his voice slightly shrill and shaking.

Lily groans and steps around the corner, ignoring the gesturing and whispered ‘What are you doing?!’s from us Marauders.  Snivellus takes one look at her and his expression turns absolutely disbelieving. Maybe even… a little hurt?  I stiffen.  “Merlin…  _ Snivellus has a crush on Evans _ !” I whisper incredulously to Remus, Peter, and James.  I nearly fall into another convulsive laughing fit, but before I can—and before the other Marauders can react to the news—Lily walks toward Snivellus and starts helping him pick up his books.

“Let me help you, Severus,” she says kindly.  I can’t help noticing the way her eyes flick to his greasy hair—she may feel sorry for him, but at least she has the sense to see how revolting he is.  “It’s the weekend, you’ll have time to get your homework redone—I’ll help if you like—”  She piles his books in his arms, takes out her wand, and aims a cleaning charm at his books.  The ink disappears—even off of his homework, but unfortunately for him, it takes the ink of his answers away as well.  I snicker a little; he’s got blank parchment in place of his homework.

Snivellus jerks his head to the side to look behind Lily, glaring sullenly.  He hates that Lily’s helping him, I can tell; he probably knows it’s out of pity.  “I know  _ you _ did this,” he snarls, and I can also tell by his tone that he knows we’re hiding.  So I step out into the hallway.

“Oh, sorry,  _ Snivellus _ , we must have left some wire lying around,” I greet him, my voice dripping with sarcasm and smug gloating.  “Maybe you should be more careful walking back from the library, y’know, what with all that homework you’ve just spent so much time on…”

I don’t think James can help himself at the look on Snivellus’ face.  He bursts into laughter as he steps out into the corridor next to me and says, “Wow, how pathetic.  I bet his own  _ family _ can’t stand him.”

Before Snivellus can reply, Lily is bearing down on us, wand in hand and face livid with fury.  I think we’ve struck a nerve.  “That’s enough!  That’s  _ enough _ !  All of you are  _ horrible _ , no one deserves that!  Leave him alone!”  She’s practically screaming.  She’s bound to attract any teachers hovering around nearby.  “How would  _ you _ feel if someone ruined your homework when you worked so hard on it?!  You should  _ know better _ than to do stupid things like this—you should  _ know better _ than to insult someone’s family—you’re no better than him!  No—no better than a  _ Death Eater _ !”

Stunned silence greets the end of her tirade.  Personally, I didn’t think she had it in her to yell like that.  We must have  _ really _ ticked her off.  Still, I think Snivellus, of all people,  _ does _ deserve the way he’s treated.  And some families deserve to be insulted—take mine.  I hate my family.  That’s why I live with James’ family.

Lily’s lower lip is quivering.  She turns furiously and storms away past Snivellus, who looks as stunned as we are, clutching his books to his chest.  James hesitates, and then runs after her.  He looks guilty.  I think Lily’s words struck a chord in him.

Snivellus stares for a second, then adopts his customary greasy sneer, brushing past us and walking quickly away.  I exchange glances with Remus and Peter, who both look as if the sky has caved in.  I feel quite the same.  “She was awfully mad,” Peter says quietly.  Understatement of the year, if you ask me.

Remus glances out the window.  There isn’t much to see but the gray-white swirling past the windows; it’s snowing something awful.  But he looks exhausted. He murmurs dully, “We should get back to the tower.”

* * *

_ Moony _

I’m tired, and I just want to go to sleep.  I didn’t sleep well last night, either.  I’m not sure what’s giving me such bad nightmares this month, but I hope it doesn’t mean the change will be worse tomorrow night.  I was dragging through classes on Friday, as the other Marauders didn’t fail to notice, and today the only time I had any sort of energy was when we were playing that prank on Snape… but now I feel awful about that.

I climb through the portrait hole before Sirius.  The common room’s not very full, so it must be earlier than it seems.  Most students are still at the library studying, or maybe even in the Great Hall for dinner.  I think I’ll skip dinner tonight. I haven’t been very hungry, or else I’ve been nauseated.  I’ve barely been able to manage two meals between the last two days.

Sirius climbs through behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder.  “Dinner’s soon, Moony, we can probably head on down.”  He glances around the common room, looking rather serious for once… I think Lily’s lecture sobered all four of us, at least a little.

“I’m really not hungry,” I reply half-heartedly.  “I just want to go to sleep.”

Sirius must have been checking the time, because now he says, “Remus, it’s only five thirty in the evening.  You haven’t eaten much of anything today  _ or _ yesterday.  Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey.”

I’m a little surprised by his concern.  Usually Sirius is the last to suggest going to the Hospital Wing.  But I shake my head and say, “It’s just the full moon coming up.  I’ll be fine after that.”

“If you say so,” he replies, plopping down sideways in a plush armchair with his legs draped over one of the arms.  He looks up at me and says, “Lily really blew up back there.  I didn’t know she could scream like that.”  He sounds cavalier, as if Lily’s outburst had only been a tad out of the ordinary, hardly remarkable.  It annoys me.

“We really made her angry,” I murmur, deciding that bed can wait a little bit longer as I lean against the back of Sirius’ chair, looking down at him.  “I feel bad about it.  I hope James tracked her down, and she’s okay.”  I don’t dare tell him that I even feel a little badly about what we did to Snape. I know him. That just wouldn’t be a good idea.

He shrugs.  “She’ll get over it.  I wonder what pushed her over the edge?”

I frown. This isn’t heading in the direction I intended.  I hadn’t realized until now that I was intending for it to head in a certain direction… but I am.  “She compared us to Death Eaters,” I say in a hushed tone.  I look up to make sure no one’s paying attention to our conversation; I don’t want to worry someone if they hear us talking about Death Eaters.  “Maybe we  _ did _ go a little far.”

“We’ve done tons worse than that to Snivellus,” Sirius says dismissively.  He’s giving me a curious look.  “Besides, he deserves it.  You know that.   _ He’s _ practically a Death Eater, I’ll bet.”

My frown deepens.  I suppose it wouldn’t surprise me if Snape turns out to be a Death Eater.  But I wonder how he would have turned out if more people were nice to him, like Lily tries to be.  It’s stupid to think this way… but I can’t help wondering.  “Maybe he doesn’t.  Lily obviously doesn’t think so.  She said no one deserves it, remember?”

Sirius shakes his head, and I can tell he isn’t about to change his mind.  “She didn’t mean that.  You-Know-Who deserves far worse than stupid little pranks like that, after all, and you know she’d admit it.  People are what they are, and Snivellus is a greasy little git with his nose too far in the Dark Arts.”

_ People are what they are… and I’m a werewolf _ , I can’t help thinking.  I shudder.  I don’t want to talk about this anymore. At all.  I don’t want to think about the monster inside me.  So I stand up and cast one last glance down at Sirius.  “I’m going to bed.”

He seems worried about me as I turn and head up the stairs to our dormitory.  I collapse on my bed, dreading the nightmares I expect to trouble my sleep, but not wanting to stay up and brood over what’s happened, either.

* * *

_ Padfoot _

The Great Hall is packed for dinner, the same as it was for breakfast and lunch.  Usually students come and go as they please to dinner, taking their time; today, though, it’s miserable outside.  Any kid in his right mind is eager to get done with studying as quickly as he can, and there’s not much else other than studying to occupy us on days like this, so the Great Hall tends to be full and buzzing with chatter when the weather is horrible.  The enchanted ceiling reflects the blizzard outside, snow falling so thickly that it looks like a blanket of grayish-white over the hall.

Peter’s already at the table. When he sees me, he waves, grinning.  “Hey, Sirius, I didn’t think you’d come… where’s Moony?”

I can’t help grinning a little at how eager and young he sounds.  He’s our age, but he seems like he’s some over-excited little third year, not a sixth year.  Still, I’m not feeling so great, myself.  I think Remus rubbed some of his low spirits off on me.  “Tired,” I reply.  “He’s gone to bed early.  Have you seen James?”

Wormtail shakes his head, his blonde hair flying.  He’s getting a little heavier this year…  He’s always been a little plump, but now I’m starting to think he should probably cut back on the sweets.

I’m not altogether very hungry, but I shovel down my food automatically, hardly tasting it.  Peter’s chattering beside me, I think about the nearly-finished Marauder’s Map (my idea, I’m proud to say, though James inspired it), but I’m only listening with half an ear.  Up at the Staff Table, Professor Dumbledore is having an animated conversation with Professor McGonagall; Hagrid, the gamekeeper, isn’t there, but he usually steers clear of the castle except for special occasions.

I’m halfway through my meal when James and Lily, looking slightly flushed, enter the Hall together.  I grin; by the looks of it, James has made up to Lily, and she’s ready to give him the time of day. I knew she liked him, at least a little.  I give a small wave, and they hurry over to sit next to Peter and me, though Lily doesn’t look quite like she’s ready to forgive the rest of us Marauders even if she’s made up with James.  Peter looks up from his nearly-finished food and grins broadly.  “I knew she liked him,” he says, and I make sure he can’t see me roll my eyes.  

“Hey, Padfoot,” James says slightly breathlessly, sitting across from me since there’s not enough space for the two of them on either side of Peter or me.  Lily sits next to him, eyeing Peter and me distrustfully.  “Wormtail.  Where’s Remus?”

“Sleeping,” Peter pipes up helpfully.

“What’s with your nicknames?” Lily asks James.  I give him a goofy grin while she isn’t looking, and I can tell he has trouble not beaming back now that Lily’s on speaking terms with him.  Instead, he kicks me under the table, and I jump.  Lily looks at me, startled, and thankfully seems to forget her question.

“Sorry about upsetting you,” I tell Lily by way of apology, and Peter nods fervently as he finishes off his meal.  “We didn’t mean to.”

She doesn’t look happy about this apology, and she replies curtly, “It’s Snape you should apologize to.”

I almost choke on my food, but a look from James stops me from replying indignantly.  Lily seems to accept my silence as a sort of peace treaty and begins eating.  I finish my own food as quickly as I can and try to catch James’ eye so we can have a little talk, but he shakes his head and gestures to Lily.

My mouth twitches into a frown, and I roll my eyes and get up from the table.  “I’m going back to the common room.  I’ll see you later.”

* * *

It’s late at night before I get to talk to James alone.  Lily has retired to bed, leaving James and me in a nearly empty common room in front of the blazing fire, warding off the chill of the blizzard outside.  The fact that James and Lily wouldn’t separate for anything had been irritating me to no end, but now that she’s gone, I let it go and grin at James.  “I told you she doesn’t hate you.”

He blushes and grins back.  “Shut up, Padfoot.  She was right, today.”

I raise my eyebrows at him, surprised.  “I know you had to tell her you were sorry about the thing with Snivellus, but this is  _ me _ .  Not Peeves.  I won’t go dancing off to tell her whatever you say to me.”

He musses his hair with a hand and pushes his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose.  “I mean it, Sirius.  I talked to her about it… and… you know how she’s Muggle-born.  And I said something about Sniv—Snape’s family.  That’s how You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters are.  They hate you just if you have the wrong sort of family, or just if you associate with the wrong kinds of people, like Muggles and Muggle-borns.”

“But we hate Snivellus just for being his slimy little self,” I point out.  James watches me with his hazel eyes, and I can tell that Lily’s gotten to him.

“He’s awful, I know.  And he’s into the Dark Arts…”  He sighs.  I know he’s fighting not to slide back into just hating Snivellus like normal, and I’m about to encourage it—the little git  _ deserves _ being hated—when he finishes, “Still, we shouldn’t  _ always _ be so horrible to him.  Just when he earns it, not for no good reason.”

I shake my head and laugh.  “Okay, Prongs.”   _ He’ll be over this in a week _ , I tell myself.  Funny what a girl can do to a bloke.  I’ve never been seriously interested in a girl, but I’ve seen boys our age head-over-heels for one, willing to do whatever she wants.  “Let’s go to bed.”


	3. Attraction

_ Sunday, January 6 (Sixth Year) (Full Moon) _

 

_ Moony _

When I wake with a start, sure I was having a nightmare but unable to remember even the smallest part of it, it’s to a nearly empty dormitory.  I sit up and look around, stretching my cramped back a little.  Sirius is lying out on his bed rather grumpily, prodding a Cauldron Cake wrapper with the tip of his wand.  Only two of the dormitory beds are made, and James’ isn’t one of them.

“Padfoot?” I ask groggily, and his shoulders tense a little in surprise before he turns over, pocketing his wand, to grin at me.  “Why’re you still up here?”  Outside, the sun is shining, and everything is bright with light reflected off of the layer of snow on the ground.  It has to be well past breakfast.  Sirius is even fully dressed.

“Nothing to do,” he tells me.  “I thought about waking you up, but you looked like you’d had a right awful night, so I left you alone.”

“I did,” I admit, groaning and swinging my legs off the bed.  “Where’s James?”  I would have expected Prongs and Padfoot to be off together, stirring up mischief… or at least down in the common room finding ways to frighten the first years while they waited for me to wake up.

Sirius waves a hand dismissively and replies, “Off with Evans somewhere.”  Then he sits up, brightening, and I watch him suspiciously.  Obviously he’s got news for me, and I can guess what lines it’ll be along if James and Lily are together.  “She’s finally giving him the time of day.  He’s practically her love slave.  She even,” he laughs just at the thought, “convinced him that Snivellus isn’t all that bad.”

I laugh.  “I guess we were right about her, then.”  I pull off my pajamas and yank my robes over my head before asking, “So, how’d all this come about?  I missed a lot, going to bed early, didn’t I?”

“You did,” he agrees.  He looks up at my hair and laughs, standing up to find a comb to toss me.  I catch it less than deftly, but manage not to drop it, and I begin to give my hair at least a halfway decent comb-through.  Sirius continues, “So apparently, James chased Lily to the library, and she couldn’t very well strangle him to death with the librarian there.  They couldn’t have a screaming match, either, or they’d get kicked out, so… I guess they ended up talking, and James ‘saw the light’, and they’re getting along perfectly well, now. Typical girl.”  He grins.  “She’s perfectly happy with him when he sees things her way.”  He’s at least half joking, which I suppose is better than being completely serious about saying that, since I don’t think Lily’s like that at all.

“Can’t really blame him for being willing to say anything to make her like him,” I comment, finishing up my hair and tossing the comb back to Sirius, who catches it almost badly as I did—which explains why he isn’t on the Quidditch team, either.  “He’s liked her for ages, and he’s finally managed to get her to treat him as more than the gum on her shoe.”  I’m exaggerating, of course, but to James it felt that way. He didn’t understand why Lily didn’t like him back.

Sirius nods, frowning, and apparently decides to change the subject.  “Ready for the full moon tonight, Moony?”

I shudder, and I can see that Sirius regrets the question.  “As ready as I’ve ever been, I guess,” I murmur, but the nightmares are nipping at the back of my mind.  “It’ll be freezing,” I comment, trying to sound as if I’m just making conversation about the weather.  “Especially if it snows again.”

“Sorry,” he says quietly, and I look at him, surprised.  “It’s fun for us, but I know what it was like for you when you were little… I guess I understand having nightmares about that.”

I start to nod, but then I protest, “I haven’t had nightmares, I’ve just been sleeping badly, I mean, the moon’s almost full, that’s got to have some effect on the werewolf…”  I trail off, giving up.  James probably told him how I woke him up Thursday night—or maybe it was in the wee hours of Friday morning.  I guess it’s no use denying that I was having nightmares.

“Maybe we should go find Peter or something,” Sirius suggests.  I know it’s mostly an attempt to get my mind off tonight.  “We can work on tweaking the Marauder’s Map.  James and I are pretty good at casting the spells and all on it, but you’re the best at modifying them, you can probably find something to improve…”

I nod, relieved, and pull on my shoes.

* * *

_ Padfoot _

James and I both clamp our hands over Peter’s mouth at once to shut him up as we near our usual window for checking Moony’s progress to the Whomping Willow with Madam Pomfrey.  Someone’s silhouetted against the window, looking out.  The three of us under James’ Invisibility Cloak walk as quietly as possible, sneaking closer.

I clench my teeth when I realize who it is by the greasy hair on the back of his head.  Snivellus is at the window, looking across the grounds; I can see tiny Remus and Madam Pomfrey hurrying toward the entrance to the tunnel that leads to the Shrieking Shack, leaving a trail of footprints behind them in the glistening snow.  Snivellus’ face is screwed up in concentration, and not until Moony disappears and Madam Pomfrey heads back to the castle does he turn and leave the hallway.  We barely manage to keep him from brushing past us.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, I hiss to James, “Oh, yeah, he’s not that bad, we should treat him better…”  I’m mad as hell.  That little  _ bastard _ is spying on Moony, trying to figure out where he’s going every month, no doubt.

“It was probably an accident, and he doesn’t even know who Madam Pomfrey was with,” James says, but he sounds distinctly worried.  “Besides, he’s not smart enough to figure out Moony’s secret, you know that.”

I shake my head, my heart pounding in my ears.  Bloody little git…  Peter shuffles his feet next to me hesitantly, and then mutters quietly, “I… I have to use the loo.”

James and I roll our eyes, but Peter has effectively taken our minds off of Snivellus for the most part, so we start to head out of the castle.  On the way, we stop so that Peter can do his business, groaning to one another because we have to be in the otherwise empty bathroom with Peter since we can’t very well wait in the hall under the Invisibility Cloak. Peter disappearing under it once he leaves the bathroom would look quite suspicious should another student wander by.

Once Peter has finished, we disappear under the cloak again and make our way out of the castle.  On the front steps, while we’re standing in Madam Pomfrey and Moony’s footprints, I take out my wand and murmur a charm so that we won’t leave footprints just in case Snivellus decides to look out a window again.

We set off across the snow, and by the time we’re just outside the range of the Whomping Willow’s branches the sun is setting over the Forbidden Forest, lighting up the snow violently red and orange.  Peter changes into his rat form and slips through the Whomping Willow’s branches, pressing the knot on the tree’s trunk to freeze it, and James starts to pull off the cloak.  “Wait,” I hiss.  “Once we’re inside, in case Snivellus is watching.”

James gives me a look I can hardly see because our faces are so close, but I guess that he’s thinking I’m being overly cautious.  He agrees, though, and we make our way to the tunnel, sliding our way down before we pull off the cloak at the bottom.  James hides it in a nook near the entrance, and we transform into our Animagus forms—a stag for James, and a large black dog for me.

As animals, we make it through the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack much more quickly than we would as humans. We meet Remus partway to Hogsmeade, and he’s looking rather apprehensive about the coming change.  James and I become human to keep him better company the rest of the way to the Shack, and Wormtail catches up not much later.

“We saw Snivellus watching Madam Pomfrey take you to the Whomping Willow,” I tell Remus.  James shoots me a glare, but I don’t regret saying it until I see the look on Moony’s face.  He’s got enough to worry about without adding Snivellus to his troubles.  I grimace.  “Sorry.”

He just shrugs, nearly trembling, and picks up his pace.  He has to make it to the Shrieking Shack before moon up… I suppose he’d be fine if he didn’t, at least with us here, but if we weren’t, his werewolf self might decide to go back the way he’d come and wreak havoc on Hogwarts’ grounds.

We’re nearly at the shack. I can dimly make out the entrance from the tunnel.  “I’m going to change,” Moony whispers, as if his mouth has gone completely dry.  “Turn.  Now.”

The three of us nod, quickly becoming Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail.

* * *

_ Moony _

I wake in the Shrieking Shack, the eastern windows letting in the glaring light of sunrise.  I didn’t get much sleep last night, but this time it wasn’t because of nightmares. None of us Marauders got much sleep.  We spent most of the night exploring Hogsmeade, and we even found another passage that leads from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts to add to our map.

Like always, last night is strangely bleary in my mind, as if I dreamed most of it.  I’m only barely myself on the nights of the full moon, even with the other Marauders around to keep me human. The werewolf is always there, like another personality waiting to take over without notice.  It terrifies me, because sometimes I think that one day I won’t be able to keep my mind. I’ll attack my friends and one of them will be hurt, or turned into a werewolf, or worse.

I’ve got a scabbed-over wound on my side, over the bottom of my ribs, where I got out of line during the night and one of the other Marauders nipped me to bring me back to focus.  Other than that, I’m not hurt, but I’m exhausted.

I sit up slowly; my joints are aching a little after sleeping on the dilapidated wood floor with no cushion at all.  The other Marauders are lying out randomly over the floor, all of them still in animal form.  Padfoot lifts his head to look at me with those puppy eyes of his. They’re more pronounced in dog form, but he’s got them as a human, too.  Those eyes are probably part of what makes him attractive to girls. It’s something he gets naturally and James has to work at, but Peter and I don’t even try for.  I’ve never been very interested in girls, anyway, and since they’ve never been interested in me, it works out well enough in the end.

“Morning,” I greet him.  He nods his great, shaggy head and then changes back into human form, ending up on the floor on his forearms and knees, looking quite ridiculous.  He quickly sits back, running his fingers through his hair.

Peter wakes up, as well, and joins us in human form.  He shakes his blonde hair out of his pudgy face and grins at us.  Through a yawn, he says, “A—awesome, a new pa—assage for the map!”

Sirius nudges Prongs with his foot, and the stag jolts awake, raising his head on a long neck to look around at us.  He turns back to James, stretching and yawning even while he’s transforming, and then asks blearily, “What time is it?”

I nod toward the windows and reply, “Dawn.  We’d better head back to the castle, or we’ll be late for class.”  I don’t add that they’ll miss breakfast, like always; they’ll just slip down to the kitchens during morning break.  The house elves will be more than happy to feed them, and me, if I’ve regained my appetite by then.

We climb to our feet, stretching and yawning the whole way, and make our sleepy way to the tunnel leading back to Hogwarts.

* * *

I don’t realize how glad I am that James and Lily are finally making moves on one another until in the evening, and then it makes me guilty.  Sirius is telling horrible stories to the first years about the Forbidden Forest, and he often calls on me to help him continue; ordinarily he and James do most of the telling, and I only stick in my two Knuts every other story or so.

Of course, we’ve been at these first years for half a school year, so they’re not very easy to scare anymore.  They bore of our stories after half an hour or so, and Sirius turns to me, looking thoroughly satisfied.  “Gullible little firsties, aren’t they?” he asks pleasantly.

“Not as gullible as they were at the beginning of the year,” I point out.  “But we’ll get a new batch next year to frighten.”

Sirius nods, grinning broadly, and pulls out the Marauder’s Map.  We wolfed down our lunch as quickly as possible earlier today so we could take some time to add onto the map, and James was even willing to separate from Lily for a bit to do it.  Sirius glances around shifty-eyed-like and then pulls out his wand, tapping the map and murmuring, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

The ink swirls up in the familiar title: ‘Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present The Marauder’s Map.’  Padfoot grins up at me, and I can’t help but marvel at our cleverness.  The map of the castle appears, with little dots moving around the corridors. I look for Lily’s, James’, and Peter’s, and find the former two in the library, and the latter on its way toward the common room from the Great Hall.  Severus Snape’s dot is in the dungeons.

“We’ve really outdone ourselves,” Sirius says.  “I think it’s done, or close to it.”

I quite agree.  We’ve put in more little details on the map than anyone could possibly need.  It’ll even show whoever’s holding it how to enter some of the more difficult passages, some of which require magical phrases that would be almost impossible to guess.  Of course,  _ we _ managed…

“Mischief managed,” he murmurs, and he rolls the blank sheet of parchment up and replaces it in a pocket of his robes.

“James and Lily seem to be getting close,” I comment idly, picking at a loose thread in the upholstered chair I’m sitting in.  I still feel drained. I’m overtired, though, so I have this jittery feeling of abnormal energy.

Sirius kind of purses his lips as if he’s not sure exactly how he feels about James and Lily finally starting to get to know each other, running his fingers back through his hair to get it out of his eyes.  “That’s great for James and all,” he says, his eyes looking past me, a bit unfocused, “but I wish he’d spend time with us, too, y’know.  He doesn’t have to spend every second with Lily.”

I frown, feeling an odd twinge in my gut.  I ignore it and point out, “It’s new for them.  He’ll get over it soon.”

With a nod, Padfoot’s eyes refocus on me and he replies wryly, “Yeah, that’s what I figured, too.”

I hear a nervous little girlish titter and realize that a fourth year has snuck up next to Sirius.  I watch her curiously as she blushes when he turns to look at her, clumsily handing him a folded piece of parchment and running off, disappearing up into the girl’s dormitories.

I struggle to bite back a highly amused grin as I slip out of my armchair, moving to perch on the arm of Sirius’ chair to read the note with him.  On the front, the ‘i’s dotted with what look suspiciously like hearts, is ‘To: Sirius, From: Sarah McDougal’.  “Looks like you have a not-so-secret admirer,” I murmur, attempting to keep from laughing.

Sirius looks up at me with a dry expression and a raised eyebrow.  “Gee.  Another.”  He looks back down at the note, unfolding it to read it by the light of the flickering fire.

All the ‘i’s are dotted with hearts in the letter, too, so I’m not sure if that’s just the way she writes or if it’s something ‘special’ for Sirius.  I give a barking laugh at that, and when Sirius shoots me a Look, I shut up and start reading.

_ Dear Sirius, _

_ You probably don’t really know who I am, and you surely don’t… like me… but Suzy convinced me to write you anyway, so here goes… _

_ This is embarrassing… I kind of like you, I’m sure a lot of girls tell you that, but…  I was wondering if maybe we could do something. There’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, or, I don’t know, whatever you want. _

_ Sorry to bother you. _

It’s signed, ‘Yours Truly, Sarah’.

A grin pulls at the corner of my mouth, and I watch Sirius to see his reaction.  He’s shaking his head, looking amused himself. When he’s done reading, he folds the note back up and absently drops it in his pocket.  “Fourth years,” he mutters ruefully.

I get a suspicious feeling at the look on his face and lean over him, reaching into the pocket in his robes where he dropped Sarah’s note.  I pull out two folded pieces of parchment: the note from Sarah, and another from Kayla Lansing, a Ravenclaw fourth year.  The ‘to’ and ‘from’ on her note, though, are circled in hearts, and I can’t help snorting.  “How many of these do you get  _ a day _ ?” I ask.

He shrugs, looking the tiniest bit embarrassed.  “I usually get them every once in a while, not every day. And most don’t count, they’re from little first year girls who don’t really know what they’re asking.”

I shake my head disbelievingly.  “I don’t know how you and James do it.  Especially you.  Most girls are interested in him because of Quidditch, but they’re just head over heels for you for no particular reason.”

He looks up at me with a fake hurt expression, those deep gray puppy eyes of his looking rather heart-wrenching.  “What, Moony, you don’t think I’m good-looking?”

I snort and shove him against the opposite arm of the chair.  “Oh, yeah, you’re gorgeous.”  Then, drawing my knee up and resting my foot on my arm of the chair in a way that would make a passing prefect ‘tut-tut’ at me (oh, wait,  _ I’m _ a prefect), I ask, “What’re you planning to do with those notes?”

“Give them back to Sarah and Kayla when I tell them I’m not interested.”  The way he puts it makes it sound harsh, but at least he’s not just throwing the notes away and ignoring them.  Besides, maybe he phrases his rejection a bit more sweetly for the girls.

“What, are you seeing someone?” I ask.  As one of his best friends, I suppose I should know the answer to that question, but Sirius hasn’t made a big deal about what relationships he gets in and out of since second or third year.  I doubt even James keeps tabs on Sirius’ girlfriends.

Padfoot shakes his head, wrinkling his nose.  “I haven’t gone out with anyone in ages.  Honestly, I’ve never had a really serious relationship, and I guess I just don’t see a point anymore. I haven’t been really interested in anyone—but I don’t think I was ever  _ really _ interested in most of my old girlfriends.”

How open he is, talking to me about this, surprises me.  I don’t think we’ve ever sat down and just talked seriously about something like this.  Probably he and James talk about these things.  I feel a pang that’s a guilty mix between jealousy and I-don’t-know-what…  Sirius and James are best friends, closer to each other than anyone else, and I don’t have someone like that.  I mean, they’re  _ my _ best friends, but they’ve never been as close to me as they are to each other.

I shove the feeling to the back of my mind and reply instead, “I’ve never had a serious relationship, either, but it’s not like I’ve had too many girls interested in me.”

Sirius grins wolfishly and hands me the notes from Sarah and Kayla.  “Have them.”

I roll my eyes at him and drop the notes back in his lap.  “Very funny.”

He gets a little more serious and says, “Really, Remus, if there’s someone you like, I can talk to them if you want—”

I shake my head at him, holding up a hand to gesture for him to stop.  “Honestly, I haven’t really been interested in anyone, either, so I guess the feeling’s mutual.  Besides, if I was, I wouldn’t want a pity date.”  I wrinkle my nose, grinning.  He laughs and nods.

The buzz of energy from being overtired is beginning to dull, and I know I should really get some sleep.  The full moon has passed, at any rate, so at least I probably won’t have to deal with any nightmares. I hope.  “I think I’ll get some sleep,” I tell Sirius, standing up and glancing toward the stairs leading up to our dormitory.  I can’t help yawning a little bit.

“I’ll come with you,” Sirius says, glancing at the time.  “James’ll probably be off with Lily for as long as curfew allows, anyway.”

He walks with me up the stairs, leaving the hushed chattering in the common room behind.  Behind the closed door to the boy’s third year dormitory, I dimly hear someone snoring, but I’m too tired to grin.

As we’re changing into our nightclothes, Sirius comments, “We never really talk like we were earlier, do we?”

“Not really,” I reply.  “But I’m sure you and James do, at any rate.”

He laughs, giving me a funny look.  “Well, yeah, but we can’t say anything serious to each other without turning it into a joke.  It’s different, talking to you.”

I feel the strange urge to give him a tight hug, surprised at how good his words make me feel.  I’ve never really had or been a confidant, so it’s good to hear that Sirius likes talking to me about some more serious things.  Sirius things.  I grin.  “No problem,” I reply; it seems the only appropriate thing to say.  Then I lie down to go to sleep, quite certain I won’t be troubled by nightmares.


	4. Interlude : Second Year

_ Second Year _

 

_ Moony _

“What happened, Rems?” James asks while he, Sirius, and Peter crowd around my bed in the Hospital Wing.  Madam Pomfrey doesn’t look too happy about this; clearly, she would much rather them leave so that I can recover in peace.

I feel awful, and it’s not just because of how beat up I am after the full moon last night.  “I … got caught in one of my mom’s briar bushes when I visited her…”  I  _ hate _ lying to them.  But I would hate to lose the best friends I’ve got even more, so I can’t tell them I’m a werewolf, now can I?

“Must’ve been some awfully big briars,” Sirius says suspiciously, eyeing one of the slash marks on my stomach. Madam Pomfrey’s medicine is working quickly, so it’s almost gone, at least.  I’ll miss my first class, probably, but after that I’ll get back to my normal schedule.

“Oh, yeah, you know she’s ill, she’s letting her garden get overgrown…”  I sigh, my gut twisting.  I hate, hate,  _ hate _ lying to them all the time.  I know they’re suspicious; they have been for months.  But what else can I do?

Madam Pomfrey seems to notice how I’m feeling, because she tells the others, “Wrap it up, boys.  Mr. Lupin needs his rest.”

“Hope you feel better,” Peter chirps.  He seems less suspicious than James and Sirius, and it’s nice to get concern without a dose of guilt.

James and Sirius echo his sentiments, but they’re still watching me suspiciously.  I can tell they aren’t happy I’m not telling them the truth. No question about whether or not they can see through my lie.  Of course they can.  They wouldn’t be good friends if they couldn’t.

“See you in Charms?” Sirius asks, and I nod dully.  Madam Pomfrey shoos them toward the door, and they troop out, shooting a few odd glances back at me.

Once they’ve gone, Madam Pomfrey sits a tray of food on my lap, fluffing my pillows up behind me so I can sit up.  “I know you probably don’t have much of an appetite, dear, but you need to eat.  Don’t worry about your friends, they’ll forget about this in a few hours,” she adds, smiling maternally at me.

She knows me remarkably well, which isn’t surprising considering the amount of time I spend in the Hospital Wing and the number of times she’s taken me to the Whomping Willow where I change every full moon.  James, Sirius, and Peter, though, she doesn’t know at all.  They won’t just let this go by lunch.  But I nod politely and try to eat despite the way my stomach’s twisting and turning in knots.

* * *

_ Padfoot _

“So, what do we know?” James asks, flipping through the pages of a book on magical trees idly as he sits at a table in the library.  We’re all talking in hushed tones so the librarian won’t notice what we’re doing.  Before Peter and I bother to answer, James is ticking our clues off on his fingers: “He disappears once a month.  Madam Pomfrey takes him to the Whomping Willow when he disappears, he always looks sick around that night, and he comes back the next morning all scratched up.”

“I think we’re on the wrong track,” I mutter, sighing.  “Maybe it doesn’t have as much to do with the Whomping Willow as we think—it hasn’t even been in any of the books in the library, anyway.”

James nods, shrugging.  “Yeah, but the older students say it was planted the year we came to school, and since Rems is the only one who goes near it…”

“I guess it might explain the scratches, too. That thing’s vicious,” I add.  “But whoever heard of needing to get beat up by a tree once a month to keep from getting sick?”

That’s our best guess, anyway.  Remus always looks awful up until the night Madam Pomfrey takes him to the Whomping Willow, and then he comes back looking beat up, but starts looking less ill very quickly.  It seems odd, though, that any sort of sickness should require being beaten up by a tree as a cure.

“I’d hate having to let that tree beat me up every month,” Peter says, wide-eyed.

“We’ve never actually seen the tree hit him, though,” James comments.  “And anyway, Madam Pomfrey gets just as close as he does, and comes back without him.  They wouldn’t just let him sleep under the tree all night, would they?  And it doesn’t attack Madam Pomfrey… in fact, it doesn’t even move when they go up to it, does it?”

Peter tilts his head as he remembers watching the nurse walk Remus to the Whomping Willow yesterday evening.  “It stops moving when they get close enough,” he says.

“So maybe it’s not the Whomping Willow he’s going to,” I murmur, struck by a sudden idea.  “No one can get too near it because it’ll beat them, but Madam Pomfrey can make it stop moving—maybe there’s something it’s guarding.  Maybe  _ that’s _ what he’s going to once a month.”

“Let’s focus on the once a month, then,” James says, getting up to put away the book on plants he’d been flipping through.  “There can’t be all that many monthly illnesses for wizards, right?”  He puts the book back where we found it, and the three of us make our way over to the card catalog.  The library is very quiet, silent but for the sound of book pages flipping, quills scratching, and the occasional muted whisper. Usually James and I don’t much like the library because of how quiet it is, but what we’re looking for now is too important for us to complain.  James glances at the card catalog’s drawers and asks, “What’s that word for illnesses that—oh, chronic.”  He pulls open the ‘C’ drawer and begins thumbing through the cards to find what he’s looking for.

Peter and I wait with a bated breath as James leans his head over the drawer and searches, his jet-black hair sticking out every which way.  Finally, he stops, mumbling a title to himself.  I barely catch it:  _ Chronic Wizarding Ailments and Their Treatments _ .

“Found it?” Peter whispers.  He looks ready to start biting his knuckles with anxiety.  I grin to myself; seeing how overexcited he is seems to bring all this back into perspective.  We want to find out Rems’ secret, but it’s not like this is life or death or something… I think.

James nods and gestures for us to follow him, shutting the drawer on the card catalog and leading us to wherever the book is supposed to be shelved.  The aisle it’s assigned to is two aisles away from the Restricted Section, and most of the books are covered in a layer of dust; not many students need books from this section.  He scans the spines of books for the titles, muttering under his breath, until he finds the one he’s looking for. His face lights up and he pulls it out, sneezing as the thin layer of dust on it billows out like a reprimand for disturbing the book’s rest.  “Got it.  C’mon.”

We sit at the nearest table—or James does, and Peter and I stand behind him, watching over his shoulders—and flip to the book’s table of contents.  “Monthly,” I whisper, putting a finger to the proper section title. James murmurs the page number under his breath and flips to a point nearly halfway through the book.  I read the words on the title page: “‘Monthly Illnesses: Ailments recurring once a month.’”  Below that, there’s a picture of a witch covered in painful-looking boils.

All three of us are excited.  There’s a nervous tension in the air around us that would have had Snape, a greasy Slytherin in second year same as us, running for Filch, sure we’re up to trouble.  At the thought, I look around to be sure he’s not sneaking around, but there’s no sign of him.

James flips through the pages, passing over unlikely candidates (“No, this one lasts three days, and we’d see it,” and “I doubt it—how would he have gotten into  _ that _ ?”) and occasionally stopping on illnesses that might fit, but eventually deciding they aren’t right and moving on.

James turns the page and the bold title, ‘Werewolves’, catches my eye.  I inhale sharply and ask, “Every month… it’s always the full moon… isn’t it?”

I’m almost certain I remember seeing the full moon shining in the sky last night.  James looks up at me, eyes wide, and says, “It couldn’t be that, could it?  Werewolves are very dangerous, they would never be allowed at school.”

“They must have made a place for him to go where he won’t be dangerous,” I say.  “I mean, if he  _ is _ a werewolf.  Somewhere he can’t get loose and hurt anyone.”

“A werewolf?” Peter asks, looking quite frightened.  I don’t blame him; every witch and wizard hears scary stories about werewolves when they’re younger.  A werewolf can tear a full grown wizard to shreds.  And werewolf bites are incurable, so if you get bitten by one, you’re stuck changing into a werewolf every full moon for the rest of your life.

“Well, we’re not sure, let’s read through and see,” James says, but he’s talking quickly and breathing shallowly—I can tell he’s already sure that this is exactly what Remus has been hiding.  He begins reading at a mumble, keeping track of where he is with an index finger.  I start to read along with him, but when he starts reading relevant parts aloud, it throws me off, so I just listen.  “‘Many victims of the werewolf bite feel sick and drained around the time of the full moon; they don’t sleep well, and their appetites may be affected.’”  My heart beats faster—that’s just what Remus is like around the time Madam Pomfrey takes him to the Whomping Willow!  Further on, James reads, “‘There is no treatment for a werewolf, but he may be locked in a room for the night of the full moon so that he does not harm other people.  Most of the time in such cases, with no prey to hunt, the werewolf will injure himself, but usually the wounds are fairly minor and easily treated by a qualified witch or wizard.’  That explains the slash marks…”  He continues reading, getting to the very end, and then says, “Hey, this is interesting: ‘The werewolf is a tremendous danger to people, but only to people.  The werewolf does not hunt animals.’  I wonder why that is?”

I shrug—it doesn’t seem important.  My heart is thundering in my chest.  “I can’t believe it… Rems is a werewolf.  A werewolf!”

“That explains why he wouldn’t tell us anything,” James says seriously.

“Why?” Peter asks, looking confused and still a little frightened.

James adjusts his glasses over the bridge of his nose and replies, “Everyone’s scared of werewolves.  They haven’t told anyone Remus is one because a lot of students and their parents would be angry to know that the headmaster allowed a werewolf in the school.”

“Rems is probably scared to tell us what he is because he thinks we won’t want to be friends with him if we know,” I add, frowning.  James nods.

Peter is looking like Remus’ fear is well-founded, and I’m glad Remus isn’t here to see his initial reaction.  I understand that feeling… it’s a little weird to think about Remus turning into something as frightening as a werewolf.  Still, that’s no reason not to be friends with him.  I can’t believe he’d think we would just abandon him if we knew this.  James voices what I’m thinking.  “He’s been lying to us just because he’s afraid of what we might think.  I understand, I guess, but… he should know us better than that!”

We must be getting a little noisy, because the librarian gives us a stern look.  “Maybe we should go,” I murmur to James.  “Break will be over in a few minutes, anyway.”

He nods, and we get up to return the book of chronic ailments to its shelf.

* * *

_ Moony _

The looks James, Sirius, and Peter give me when we meet in front of the Charms classroom are enough to make me highly nervous.  I knew I was right—they haven’t let it go.  And Madam Pomfrey  _ almost _ had me convinced…  “What?” I ask innocently.  I’m extremely relieved when Professor Flitwick opens the door before they can reply.

Our yearmates in Gryffindor file into the classroom, but my friends pull me aside.  “We’re skiving off,” Sirius murmurs in my ear.  “Let’s go.”

_ Oh, bloody hell… _

They’re completely silent as they each take me by an arm, guiding me firmly through the corridors until we reach an empty classroom with a suit of armor next to it.  Sirius and James lead me inside, completely ignoring the foul words on the blackboard—probably Peeves’ work.   Sirius kicks the door shut behind us, and they sit me down on a low cabinet, watching me seriously.

“What?” I ask again, anxiety squeezing my heart like the beats of a humming bird’s wings.  I shake my hair out of my eyes and look over my shoulder out the window. It’s bright out today, brighter than it’s been in weeks, and I wish I could be out there rather than confronting my friends. They’re frightening me, frankly.

“You’ve been lying to us all year,” James tells me with a glare.  “Do you not trust us?  Rems, we’re your friends.”

“I know,” I murmur, looking down at my hands in my lap.   _ That’s why I’ve been lying to you. _  Maybe I haven’t trusted them.  And I probably should have.  But if they knew what I am…

“We know you’re a werewolf,” Sirius says softly, his voice matter-of-fact.  My head jerks up, and I look at him, unable to believe my ears.  What?  No one knows that, no one except Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, and some of my professors.  They can’t know.  “It wasn’t too hard to figure out,” he adds.  “Disappearing once a month for the night of the full moon…  Why didn’t you tell us?”

I swallow.  I can’t believe this—I’m ecstatic—they aren’t afraid!  But they’re angry that I’ve lied to them.  They’re right; I didn’t trust them, but they deserved for me to be honest with them.  I look down again.  “I’m sorry.  It’s just that I’ve never really had friends since the werewolf bite, and everyone’s so scared of werewolves—you’re the best friends I have, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

James smiles, his hazel eyes lighting up behind his glasses.  “We wouldn’t be very good friends if you being a werewolf scared us off, now would we?  Hogwarts wouldn’t have accepted you if it wasn’t safe, so we have no reason to be scared, really.”

I grin broadly and look between the three of them.  “I’m sorry,” I repeat.  “ _ I _ was the one who wasn’t being a good friend.  I should have trusted you.”

“That’s easy to say now,” James replies.  “I know you must have been scared.  We aren’t mad, but… just remember that you can tell us anything, right?”

“And we can tell you anything,” Peter adds.  “We’re best friends.”

My grin is so huge it might break my face apart.

* * *

Siri and I stay in the common room when James goes to Quidditch practice. At the beginning of the year, when he first made the team, we always went to watch, but by now the novelty has worn off. Peter tags along with him, but that might just be to get away from me.  I haven’t been able to stop babbling about how glad I am to finally have friends who know what I am and still like me.  Sirius seems to find it amusing.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk this much,” he comments, toying with a small carved pumpkin that he’s put a dung bomb in, preparing for the upcoming Halloween celebration.  He wrinkles his nose as a little of the smell leaks.  “Maybe we wouldn’t have told you we found out if we knew you’d never shut up.”

For a second, I’m not sure he’s teasing, but then he grins and gives me a friendly shove.  “I’m just playing, Rems.  It’s kind of nice, really.”

I grin back, but he’s still managed to get me to quiet down—at least a little.  I move to the window facing the Quidditch stadium and look down at the little red blurs flying through the air between the goal-posts, practicing.  

“I really was teasing,” Sirius says, and I jump a little.  “I didn’t mean to shut you up, y’know.”

I brush my hair back out of my face and give him a bemused grin.  “I know.  I just ran out of things to say.”

He nods, his black hair falling around his face, watching me with his hands resting over the pumpkin in his lap.  “The book where we read about werewolves said that when you’re locked up for the full moon, you hurt yourself.  Is that why you’re always so beat up the next morning?”

My mood is instantly dampened, though I’m still about a hundred times more upbeat than I was this morning in the Hospital Wing.  “Yeah… I mean, I don’t remember it so well, it’s kind of like someone else takes over and I’m just watching from way back in the dark…  But yes, that’s why.”

“I wish we could help.  We’d stay with you if we could, you know.”

“No!” I say instantly, alarmed.  I don’t doubt that he’s telling the truth. They’re just crazy enough, my stupid wonderful friends.

He grins.  “Don’t worry, we aren’t going to go and do something idiotic.  The book said werewolves’ll tear wizards to shreds… but they don’t hurt animals—oh, of course!”  He sits up, his back going straight as a board, and I know he’s got what’s probably a very dangerous and  _ very _ against-school-rules idea.  He turns to me excitedly, narrowly avoiding dumping the dung bomb-filled pumpkin on the floor.  “Animagi!”

I stare at him.  It takes a second for what he’s saying to register. Then I remember a third year telling us earlier this year that McGonagall taught her class about Animagi and turned into a cat in the middle of class.  I start shaking my head fervently.  “Siri, I don’t think a cat is a match for a werewolf…”

He grins.  “Well, maybe not in a fight, but werewolves are only supposed to be dangerous to people.  So if we turn into animals, we should be fine, and you wouldn’t have to spend the full moon alone!”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I tell him hesitantly.  “First of all, it’s got to be major magic, so I don’t know how you’d figure it out.  Second, it’s  _ got _ to be against tons of school rules… and third, what if I end up hurting you?  What if you’re wrong?”

He waves a hand dismissively.  “How big is a werewolf?  Not much bigger than a real wolf, right?”

“I guess not, I’m not exactly  _ measuring _ myself when I’m that way…”

“Well, if all three of us take big animal forms, then we’ll outnumber you.  We’d be fine.  Besides, you wouldn’t be alone, then.  You’d have us with you.  You wouldn’t beat yourself up, and since you know us, maybe you’d be a little more in control.”  He’s watching me eagerly—obviously he wants my approval.

It still doesn’t seem like a very good idea, but I can’t help it.  He’s right.  I wouldn’t be alone. It’s hell, to be alone as the werewolf.  And I’m  _ sure _ I’d be a little more human knowing they’re with me.  Slowly, I nod, breaking into a grateful smile. I can’t believe the friends I’ve got.  They’re the best.

“Brilliant!”  He stands up, holding the dung bomb pumpkin in one hand, and throws his arms around my shoulders.  “We’ll work it all out, you’ll see, and then you’ll never have to spend another full moon alone.”

I stand enveloped in a hug from one of my best friends in the world. I feel very warm, and accepted, for the first time in my life.  I’ve got friends who’ll do anything for me, and I’ll do anything for them.  I smile against Sirius’ neck.  “Thank you.”


	5. Trouble

_ Monday, February 4 (Sixth Year) (Full Moon) _

 

_ Padfoot _

Each of us has about ten dung bombs stuffed in the pockets of our robes, and we’re sneaking toward Filch’s office with the Marauder’s Map open, watching for approaching students.  It’s our way of christening the newly finished map, and we’re all feeling very mischievous and rather excited.  The hallway’s deserted, but we can hear students streaming through nearby corridors.  That’s the really risky part, and why we’re depending on the map so much—the castle’s active, so anyone could walk up on us.

“Anyone?” James asks Peter, who volunteered to be in charge of the map.  He shakes his head, keeping his eyes fastened to the map; he doesn’t want to screw this up.

We reach Filch’s door, and just when Remus is carefully opening it so we can sneak in, Peter hisses, “ _ Peeves _ !”

Remus shuts the door with a snap, and we start to bolt down the hall, but it’s too late.  “Oooh, Peevesie smells trouble, what are  _ you _ four doing near Filchie’s office?” he asks in a singsong, floating cross-legged in the air in front of us, sporting a large spinning bow-tie and a brightly colored outfit.

“Peeves…” I murmur, my tone half aggravated and half warning.

“Should tell Filch about this, I should,” he cackles, turning over sideways in the air.

“Peeves, don’t!” Peter begs.

I honestly don’t get Peeves.  He’s a lot like us—all five of us like chaos, after all.  But he’s happy to get students into trouble indiscriminately.  He doesn’t even have a problem harassing the professors.  There’s almost no reasoning with him.  Almost.

As he takes in a breath to yell for Filch, I say hurriedly, “Peeves, don’t—we’ll give you our dung bombs!”

He stops, looking at me, obviously tempted.  “Dung bombs… Peeves should tell, he should, but…”  He cackles evilly, turning right-side-up and sticking out his hands.  “Gives them to us, then!”

James looks at me like I’m mad, but I just shrug.  If it gets Peeves out of the way…  Besides, the poltergeist is likely to cause more trouble with them than we would, running no risk for us in the process.  I empty my pockets of all but two dung bombs, watching the other Marauders dump theirs in Peeves’ hands.

The poltergeist takes them happily, chortling to himself, but then he pauses and gives us a suspicious glare, looking at us sternly.  “Gives them all, now, wouldn’t want Peevesie to yell for Filch!”

I can’t help but feel a little impressed.  Peeves doesn’t seem to be all that bright when you think about it—he just lives for trouble—but he’s smarter than you’d think.  I pull out my remaining dung bombs, and James pulls out two of his own. Remus and Peter turn their pockets out, showing them to be empty already.

Peeves takes the remaining dung bombs and they disappear in his hands. Then he dives down at Peter, screeches “Got your conk!” and disappears.

“That was close,” Remus sighs, grinning.  He looks peaky because of the moon tonight, but still satisfied.  “Not what we were planning, but I’m sure Peeves will put those to good use.”  Peter’s rubbing his nose with his free hand, grimacing after Peeves’ joke.  He’s still got the Marauder’s Map clutched in his other hand.

“So much for christening the map,” James frowns.

“You four,” an oily voice from behind us says. I instantly know who it belongs to.   _ Snivellus _ .  I turn around to face the greasy git.  “Obviously up to no good.”  He glances down toward Peter’s hands, and I realize he’s looking at the Marauder’s Map.  I snatch it away from Wormtail, tapping it with my wand and hissing “ _ Mischief managed _ ” under my breath.  It turns blank instantly.

“What do you want, Sniv—Snape?” James asks, catching himself before using our little nickname for the Slytherin.  I’m not sure if he stopped in an attempt to avoid trouble or because of Lily’s influence.  Probably the latter.

Snivellus ignores him entirely, glancing at Remus.  “Not looking too good, are you, Lupin?” he asks nastily.  I have a very bad feeling about the tone of his voice.

Remus, though, seems to take it in stride.  “Aw, I never knew you cared.”  I can’t help snorting—I couldn’t have thought of a more perfect response.  Snivellus stiffens, surprised at the turnaround, but shortly recovers and gives us one of his better glares.

I hear footsteps behind us Marauders, and the look on Snivellus’ face tells me that I won’t be glad to find out who’s approaching.  I look over my shoulder and see Filch making his way toward us. He looks like he’s caught the scent of trouble, and is anticipating giving any student he can detention.

“Mr. Filch, the piece of parchment they have—I think it’s some sort of map, but they made it vanish,” Snivellus says instantly, his voice greasy and highly satisfied.

My nostrils flare, but then I think,  _ No reason to worry yet—I cleared the map. _

“Mr. Black, give me the parchment—and turn out your pockets, all four of you,” Filch tells us, sounding almost as satisfied as Snivellus.  Suddenly I’m very glad that Peeves has taken all our dung bombs; he’s saved us a load of trouble.  I reluctantly hand over the map and empty my pockets.  The only things remaining in them are some lint and a bottle of ink.  James, Remus, and Peter turn out their pockets, as well.

Filch is clearly disappointed that we aren’t carrying anything incriminating.  He takes out his wand, tapping the Marauder’s Map.  “Reveal yourself!”  He only seems to be giving this a half-hearted try. It’s no big secret that he’s a Squib.  The map remains blank.  Shame; we had such good insults built in for him.

“I saw it,” Snivellus says matter-of-factly, in case Filch needs more reason to believe we were up to trouble.

“Of course, of course,” he says huffily, stuffing the map into a pocket and glaring down at us.  “I’ll be confiscating this—off, the lot of you, before I give you detention!”

I exchange an incredulous stare with James.  What?  Filch can’t just  _ confiscate _ the map!  We only just finished it—he has no proof of what it is!

“Didn’t you hear me?  Get!” Filch tells us, aggravated.

We turn, sullen, and march away. I don’t try to step around Snivellus, just let my shoulder slam into his on my way past.  As soon as we’re out of earshot, I complain, “I can’t  _ believe _ that little slug!  And Filch!  We  _ just finished _ the map!”

“We didn’t even get to use it properly,” Peter adds mutinously.

“We know the whole school, the grounds,  _ and _ Hogsmeade by the backs of our hands,” Remus says calmly.  He doesn’t seem half as upset as I am.  “All we really need to use it for is seeing if someone’s sneaking up on us, and we can always use old-fashioned look-outs—or James’ cloak.”

“That’s not his point,” James replies.  Even he doesn’t look as upset as I am, but at least he seems to be giving it a better effort than Moony.  “The nosy git got the map confiscated after all the work we’ve spent on it, and now what use’ll it go to?  Filch couldn’t figure it out even if he wasn’t a Squib, so it’ll just sit in a drawer somewhere.”

Remus shrugs.  “You never know—someone may sneak into his office and find it.”

I just stare at him and shake my head disbelievingly.   _ Must be the full moon tonight…  He’s not thinking straight. _

* * *

“Sirius!”  Peter’s pudgy face is lit up with worry as he catches up with me, breathless.  He puts a hand on my arm, leaning forward a bit as he catches his breath.

“What is it?” I ask, trying not to drop my books.  I’m on my way to the library. I have some homework due Friday that I’ve been putting off almost all month, but it’s got to be some sort of new record that I’m giving myself four nights to get it done this time. Turns out all it took to make me a good (or at least better) student is James and Lily making moon eyes at each other all the time.

“I saw—Snape—” he manages breathlessly, “in the—Hospital Wing asking Madam—Pomfrey—about Moony—”

My blood runs cold.  The nosy git! Spying on Remus last month was bad enough, but now he’s asking Madam Pomfrey about where she takes Moony?  I shake my head in disbelief.  This is  _ worse _ than getting Filch to confiscate the Marauder’s Map during afternoon break.  “What did she say?” I ask, my voice chill in my ears.

He seems to be regaining his breath.  “She told him it’s none of his business,” he answers.  “And told him to go find something else to do.”

I shake my head again.  I can’t believe this.  I have to do something about Snivellus. He’s getting out of hand.  Following us around all the time, hoping to get us in trouble, and now he’s snooping around Moony, trying to figure out his secret!

Well, if he wants to know, let him.  I grin maliciously.  “Let the nosy git figure out Moony’s secret.  We’ll  _ show _ him.”

“What?” Peter asks, shell-shocked—he obviously thinks I’ve lost my mind.

“If he wants to know where Remus goes off to every month, we’ll tell him how to get in to find out.  See how he likes facing a werewolf, hm?”  I brush my hair out of my eyes, grinning to myself as I figure out how this is going to work.  In around an hour, Madam Pomfrey will take Remus down to the Whomping Willow. I have to find Snivellus before then.

Wormtail looks hesitant.  “Okay,” he says, drawing the word out uncertainly.  I hardly pay him any attention.

“I’m going to find Snivellus,” I tell him, and I walk off down the hall, leaving him behind.  He doesn’t follow, which doesn’t bother me.  I’m busy thinking about what, exactly, to tell Snivellus.

It takes me a while to find him, and again I curse having lost the Marauder’s Map—it would have made all this that much easier.  All the more reason to let Snivellus get what he deserves.  I finally find him haunting the second-floor corridor that has windows facing the Forbidden Forest, obviously waiting to see if Madam Pomfrey is going to show Moony across the grounds this evening.  His hair is as greasy as ever, hanging in shiny strands around his sallow face. His expression always seems to be an oily sneer—except, of course, when we wipe it from his face with a particularly good insult.

“ _ Snivellus _ ,” I greet him with a snarl.  He jumps a little, startled, and turns to face me.

“Black,” he says, as if he has just caught a whiff of something particularly disgusting.   _ That’ll be that hair of his. _

“What’re you hanging around here for?” I ask, glaring.  Before he can reply, I continue, “If you want to find out where Remus gets to every month, all you’ve got to do is follow him to the Whomping Willow and prod the knot on its trunk with a long stick.”

He looks decidedly suspicious.  “Like I’d believe you.”

I shrug.  “I don’t really care if you believe me.  I just figure—hey, maybe if you know, you’ll stop following us around everywhere like you  _ fancy _ us or something.”

“Watch your tongue, Black!” he snaps, pulling out his wand.  “You think a little too highly of yourself!”

I grin, pleased, and draw my own wand.  “If you want a fight, I’d be glad to oblige.  But if you can’t put your wand where your mouth is, I’ll just be on my way.  I’ve got better things to do.”

He positively fumes, but he doesn’t move to attempt hexing me, so I turn on my heel and walk away.


	6. Betrayal

_ Monday, February 4 (Sixth Year) (Full Moon) _

 

_ Padfoot _

I’ve been looking for James—and apparently he’s been looking for me, too.  He storms up to me in the hallway, Peter following behind him with a guilty expression on his face, and he looks positively livid… or maybe frantic.  Both.  He runs a hand through his hair anxiously and walks quickly up to me, hissing, “Padfoot,  _ tell me _ you were just joking with Peter!  Tell me you  _ did not _ send Snape after Remus!”  His robes bulge like he’s got the Invisibility Cloak stashed under them, which he probably does.

I raise my eyebrows, surprised.  Not that Peter told him—I might have expected that, if I’d thought about it.  No, I’m surprised that he looks so upset about it.  “I wasn’t joking. The bloody moron deserves to get the daylights scared out of him by a werewolf!”

Peter cringes.  I can tell he doesn’t like being in the middle of this, and he’s expecting things to blow up.  I don’t know why, it’s just another prank.

“Sirius!  What were you  _ thinking _ ?!” he demands.  “Do you know what you’ve  _ done _ ?”  He’s breathing quickly; he looks furious, disbelieving, and anxious all at once.  “I’ve wasted time looking for you—the moon’s nearly up now!  We’re not there with Moony, he’ll tear Snape to shreds!  We have to go stop him!”

He doesn’t even bother pulling out the Invisibility Cloak.  He just sprints down the corridor toward the entrance hall.  Peter takes one look at me and then races off after James, though he has no hope of keeping up.

For a moment, the thought of Snivellus being torn to shreds seems like the best thing in the world.  I hadn’t even thought of that.  Maybe make  _ him _ into a werewolf. If anyone deserves the sort of torture Remus endured before we started spending full moons with him, it’s Snivellus Snape.

Then I realize why James is so frantic.  It isn’t out of any sympathy for Snape—he’s worried about Remus.   _ Oh shit…  What have I done? _  I don’t know what will happen to Remus if he kills Snape, but I’m certain that it won’t be good.

I launch down the hall after James and Peter.  I have to get to Moony! If we aren’t there, he won’t be able to control himself. He won’t be in his right mind. He’ll kill Snape…

I really don’t know what I was thinking anymore.  I can’t believe I told Snape how to get to the Shrieking Shack. I should have thought it out!  Nothing good can come of this.  We can’t let him get hurt, but if he sees the werewolf, he’ll know Remus’ secret.  And by tomorrow, the entire school will know, too.

_ What have I done? _  It echoes through my mind over and over, drowning out the sound of my feet meeting the floor while I run.  I pass Peter just before reaching the entrance hall, and an instant later I’m bolting through the doors onto the snow-covered steps that lead up to the castle.  The snow all over the grounds is muddied and disturbed with students’ footprints, but I can still tell that too many sets of prints are heading toward the Whomping Willow.  Not far ahead, I see James running, his school robes streaming out behind him in sharp contrast to the snow.

James morphs into Prongs, stumbling a few times mid-change before catching his balance and bolting toward the Whomping Willow, his speed almost tripled.  I follow suit, changing into Padfoot. I barely manage to keep from falling over as I attempt to run while I’m part dog and part human, but then the change is complete, and I’m bounding toward the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack as fast as I’m able.  My breath comes in great pants, my tongue lolling out of my mouth, but I push myself until it feels like my lungs will burst.

I don’t bother with trying to freeze the Whomping Willow.  I dash straight toward its trunk, diving into the tunnel at its base before it has a chance to swing its branches at me, and then I’m bounding down the dark and dank tunnel.  I can hear James ahead, his hoof beats muffled by the dirt ground.

I can tell we’re nearly to the Shrieking Shack when I smell Snape and instinctively change back into human form, stumbling and falling with the change but getting back up and sprinting on down the tunnel.  My legs feel leaden from trying to maintain my top speed for so long, but I don’t care.

I can hardly see in the almost lightless tunnel, especially after being used to my better vision in dog form, but I can hear.  “Snape—stop!  Don’t!”  James’ voice rings back through the tunnel to me, and I find the strength for another burst of speed.

At the end of the tunnel, James and Snape are struggling; Prongs has him by an arm, trying to keep him from entering the shack.  “Let me go!”  Snape uses all his weight as leverage, lurching suddenly away from James—James’ grip loosens—Snape pulls free—

He stumbles, but before either of us can stop him, he slips through the hole into the Shrieking Shack.

James leaps through the hole after Snape before I’ve even fully gotten my mind around what’s happening.  I hear a snarl that makes my blood run cold, and then I’m diving through the hole into the Shack after the both of them, the dilapidated floor of the Shack groaning under my feet.

All I can see is werewolf-Moony’s back at first.  I move to the side a bit, terrified of what I’ll see on the other side of him—

Standing in front of Snape, three parallel slash marks on one shoulder blooming blood, is James, his arms out to ward Moony away.  Behind him, Snape is backed up against a wall, his eyes wide open and watching Moony in a fit of terror.  The acrid smell of urine permeates the air, and it only seems to rile my werewolf friend up more.  He’s growling, his ears flattened against his skull.  He must sense my presence, because he’s starting to back away from James, turning toward me.

I slip into the next room, changing to dog form as I go.  The instant my vocal chords have completed the change, I growl in the back of my throat, inviting Moony to follow me.   _ Come on, Moony,  _ please _ —leave them alone!  Follow me! _

I hear the clack of his claws against the wooden floor, and now he’s at the doorway, following me into the room.  Moonlight falls across the floor from long windows, one of them fitted with a pane of dirty broken glass.  Moony moves through the light cast over the floor, his eyes glinting.  I don’t see anything of Remus in them.  He’s just… a werewolf.  An animal.  He growls at me, his tail raised and stiff, his teeth bared.

_ Moony… _  I feel a jolt in my gut.  It’s horrible, to look into the eyes that I know belong to one of my best friends and see a monster.  My growl slowly transforms into a whine.  My ears rise as if to oppose the lowering of my tail, and I move hesitantly toward Moony.  All I want… all I want is to see Remus back in those eyes.  My heart twists in my chest.   _ It’s me… Sirius…  Please come back… _

Slowly his frame grows less rigid, his growling easing off.  He watches me more like a curious pup now than a fearsome monster, tilting his head a little—and slowly, so slowly that it makes my heart ache, the human comes back into his eyes.  He becomes Remus again.  I feel like I can take a breath and the world won’t collapse… for a split second.  But then I remember that there’s more to it than bringing Rems back into control.  Snape knows, James is hurt, and I’ve betrayed my best friend.

_ I’m so sorry, Moony… _  I move closer to him, resting my head on his gray-furred shoulder.  He nudges my side with his nose as if to ask, ‘What’s wrong?’

I want to reply, ‘Everything.’  But even if I was in human form, I wouldn’t.  Remus doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to.  Pretend like nothing is wrong.  Don’t let it hurt him.

But it’s too late.

* * *

I hear Peter’s small, quavering voice from the tunnel call, “Sirius!”  Moony’s ear twitches, but I butt my nose up against his side.   _ Just Peter. _  I watch the werewolf for a second, then pad over to the hole leading out of the shack.  Moony doesn’t follow.

Out in the tunnel, I turn back into my human self.  Peter’s white as a ghost, looking sweatier and dirtier than I’ve ever seen him.  “What is it?”

“The headmaster wants you in the Hospital Wing—quickly.  He doesn’t know you’re way out here.”  His eyes flicker to the hole leading into the shack.  “Is he… okay?”

“Back to normal,” I assure Peter.  My heart’s racing.  Dumbledore wants to see me.  I know I’m in horrible trouble.  Honestly, that isn’t what worries me.  I deserve whatever punishment he gives, even if he expels me, though I don’t want that.  Never seeing Remus again?  I live with James, so I’d see him—unless he throws me out for this!—but Moony would never want to look at my face again, and he’d never have to.

Maybe that’s best, then.

“Hurry, Sirius,” Peter whispers.

I nod sharply.  “Stay with Moony, okay?”  Someone needs to stay. To keep him human.  Peter looks hesitant at my request, but he nods.  Both of us change back into animal form, and next moment I’m racing down the tunnel back to Hogwarts.  Snape’s stench is still in the tunnel, but thankfully it’s not strong enough to provoke Moony. Ordinarily I’d find some witty insult about the Slytherin, but there are more important things to worry about.

If only I could have realized that earlier today.  Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this mess.

I sprint across the snow, my paws hardly seeming to touch the ground half the time.  The castle doors are closed. Once on the stairs, I morph back into human form, taking them three at a time up to the castle.  I heave open the heavy doors and slip inside, hardly noticing the sudden change in temperature or that I’m tracking wet footprints across the hall.

The Hospital Wing isn’t that far away, but I head for it as fast as I can go.  By the time I get there, I’m completely winded, and I have to stop myself from leaning against the heavy door to catch my breath.  I slip inside, heart fluttering with anxiety.

“Mr. Black,” Dumbledore says immediately.  He doesn’t seem exactly angry, but the usual pleasant quality in his voice is missing entirely.  He watches me with stern periwinkle eyes devoid of their typical sparkle.

I swallow, breathing hard and fast, and nod.  “Professor…”  I blink the sweat out of my eyes and look around the Hospital Wing.  James is confined reluctantly to a bed, glaring at me as if he’d wish nothing better than to throttle the life out of me.  I’ve never seen him this angry.  Madam Pomfrey is leaning over him, tending his wounded shoulder. She’s not looking at me, but I know she is something less than pleased, as well.  Snape is nowhere to be seen, so I assume that he wasn’t injured and was sent to bed.  I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

“Where is Mr. Pettigrew?” Dumbledore asks.  His eyes regard me keenly. They’re penetrating.  I can’t help feeling that he can see right through me.

“I—I told him to go back so sleep.  He has nothing to do with this.  It’s my fault.”  I can’t tell him I wanted someone to stay behind so Remus wouldn’t be alone. No one knows that James, Peter, and I are illegal Animagi, and I’ve gotten us into enough trouble without letting that slip.  I’ve gotten Remus into enough trouble.

Dumbledore’s expression changes the tiniest bit—he seems to be a little less stern.  Maybe he sees that I’m horribly sorry.  I never meant for things to go this way.  I just wasn’t thinking.  “I know you understand what you’ve done, Mr. Black.”  I nod, looking away from him, guilty—but I can’t look away for long.  I return my eyes to his face, and he continues, “For endangering two of your fellow students as well as your friend’s secret, you will have detention with Madam Pomfrey every weekend for the rest of the year.  She will keep you both Saturday and Sunday for as long as she needs you.”  He holds up a crooked finger, looking at me from over his half-moon glasses.  “But the real punishment, I’m afraid, will come from Mr. Lupin.  He is the one you’ve hurt the worst.”

I nod numbly.  He’s right, and I wouldn’t dream of pretending he isn’t.  But what about Snape?  Hesitantly, I ask, “Professor, are you going to let Snape tell anyone?”

He shakes his head, eyes glinting with something that makes me very nervous.  “He has promised me that he will not tell anyone, and he knows that the consequences for breaking his word will be severe,” the headmaster replies.  I can feel James’ glare growing hotter, boring into me.  “In the end, though, it is in Mr. Snape’s hands.  We must hope that he is better at keeping his tormentors’ secrets than you have been at keeping those of your friends.”

Tomorrow the whole school will know that Remus is a werewolf.  I know it.  And it’s all my fault.  But I just nod.  There’s not much Dumbledore can do, after all, and I shouldn’t expect him to fix something  _ I _ messed up.

“Go get some sleep,” Dumbledore tells me.  “It’s late, and you still have classes in the morning… not to mention a friend to face.”

I steal one last glance at James before I go.  He’s gone from glaring at me to not looking at me at all.  I guess I don’t blame him, but still, it’d be nice not to feel like I’ve done something so bad that even my best friend can’t forgive me.

Of course, I  _ have _ done something that bad.

I leave the Hospital Wing, heading for Gryffindor Tower.  I want to go back to stay with Remus so he’ll have more than just Peter for company, but I don’t feel like I should.  I don’t want to pretend that nothing has happened, but I can’t be the one to tell him, either.  I just can’t.  So I go to sleep in my own bed, feeling guilty for not being able to face Remus.

In the morning, I’ll see him, one way or another.  And I dread what I’ll see on his face.  I hope he can forgive me, but I don’t deserve it.   _ I’m sorry… _


	7. Closer

_ Tuesday, February 5 (Sixth Year) _

 

_ Moony _

I can’t believe it. James wouldn’t lie to me, especially not about something like this but… it can’t be true. Fog muffles my thoughts as I walk toward the castle.  James and Peter keep a few paces behind me, giving me space.  My feet crunch over the old snow. The wind is chill, turning my cheeks red, but I ignore it.

How?  How could Sirius do this?  I don’t want to face him, or anyone.  I want to hide away in the Shrieking Shack and never return to the castle.  I’m afraid of the scared but excited faces, pointing fingers at me.  I know it’ll be that way.  Werewolves are terrifying.  I am one, so I understand just how terrifying they really are—we werewolves, we’re even worse than wizards fear.

“Remus?” Peter asks hesitantly.  He’s worried for me, I can tell.  So is James.  Sirius is missing—he doesn’t care, not even enough to face me and tell me how little I matter to him.  I can’t believe that he would betray me like this.  I thought he was at least my friend, even if James was always more important to him than me, but friends don’t just tell your worst enemy your deepest secret.

“I know you’re upset, Moony,” James tells me.  “Not that it makes it okay… but I really think Sirius didn’t mean to do this.  I think he’s sorry.”

“He didn’t mean for Snape to find out I’m a werewolf,” I reply flatly, “so he told him how to get into the Shrieking Shack during the full moon.”  My voice begins to rise both in volume and in pitch: “Oh, I suppose you’re right, he just wanted me to  _ kill _ Snape so I’d be kicked out of school!  Perfect for him, two birds with one stone—he gets rid of both of us at once!”

“I’m sure he just wasn’t thinking—”

I just laugh.  Not thinking?  It sounds to me like he was thinking  _ perfectly _ clearly.  I just wish he would have  _ told _ me he hated me instead of trying to get me expelled. I would have left him alone.

“G’morning, lads!” Hagrid’s distinctive voice cuts through the chill morning air as we pass near his hut.  “What’re yeh doin’ out so early?”  I glance toward him out of habit; he’s standing in his doorway, and his new puppy is bounding around his hut energetically, barking at piles of snow.  The young black dog makes me think painfully of what Sirius might have looked like in Animagus form when he was little, and I look away, letting James and Peter greet Hagrid.

“Morning,” Peter says, sounding slightly depressed and sullen.

“Just out for some air,” James answers Hagrid’s question rather weakly.

He looks suspicious, but nods.  “Alrigh’, then—come visit me sometime, will yeh?”

Peter and James agree half-heartedly, but I don’t even attempt to reply.  Peter waves to Hagrid, and we continue up to the castle in silence.

I can see my breath in the air, but my blood’s so heated by anger that it doesn’t surprise me.  Despite that, by the time we reach the steps leading up to the castle my legs are nearly numb.   _ I can’t believe Sirius would do this to me.  I thought I meant more to him than  _ that _ … _  But I don’t know where I got that idea.  Probably he never cared about me at all.  I’m just nice to have around because I’m a werewolf.  Maybe I was just an excuse to become Animagi illegally, and to roam Hogsmeade at night.  I guess that’s all I ever was to Sirius.

“Remus, what are you doing?” James asks quietly.

I realize I’ve stopped in front of the castle doors.  I’m just staring at them blankly.  I blink and shake my head, turning to look at James, but I don’t reply.  He looks very worried.  At least  _ he _ cares, I guess.  He opens the castle doors and waits for me to enter first.  I hesitate a second, but then I bow my head and step into the castle.  I can hear the noisy chatter of students in the Great Hall, and there’s a steady trickle of them leaving to head to classes; breakfast is nearly over.

“Come on, Moony, let’s get to class,” James murmurs, tapping my arm with the back of his hand as if to be sure I’m listening.

“I don’t feel like it,” I reply quietly.

James seems surprised for a moment, but then he nods.  “Okay.  I’ll tell Professor McGonagall you aren’t feeling well—she’ll understand.”  She’s one of the few professors who knows about… my condition.  I shake my head bitterly.  Looking slightly confused, James asks, “Alright?”

“Thanks,” I murmur.  “I’ll see you later.”

I head up the marble staircase for Gryffindor Tower without bothering to spare James and Peter a second look.  I pass several small groups of students headed to class on the way, but I don’t pause to say hello or even acknowledge them.  It takes forever to make it to the Fat Lady’s portrait, but I hardly notice, even when I arrive.

“Planning on standing there all day?” the Fat Lady asks.

I look up, murmur the password, and ignore her slight huff as the portrait swings forward and I slip through the portrait hole.

I make my way automatically up to the sixth year dormitory and open the door.  I’m greeted by the sight of Sirius pacing the dormitory floor, and I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.  James might have thought I didn’t want to go to class because I don’t want to face a school almost certainly buzzing with the news of my secret, and he’s partly right… but more than that, I didn’t want to face Sirius.

So much for that.

He reaches the end of the room and turns to pace back toward the door, sees me, and stops in his tracks.  “Remus…” he breathes.  Then, strained: “What… what are you doing—I mean, I thought you’d go to class…”

“Avoiding me, too, then.”  It slips out before I’ve even thought, before my anger’s had time to boil up.  But now it has; I can feel a flush flooding furiously up my neck to color my face, and I grit my teeth.

“No—well, yes, but…  I didn’t think you’d want to see me…”

“And I’d want to face a class of people staring at me because I’m a werewolf?”  I glare at him, breathing hard.

“I’m sorry, Remus,” he murmurs softly.  “I know I shouldn’t have.  I wasn’t thinking.  I… I know that’s no excuse.  I feel horrible.”

I can tell he means it, and it makes me even angrier.  Why can’t he be properly swaggering and careless so that I can beat him senseless and not feel guilty later?  I snort.  “ _ You _ feel horrible?”  I want to make him miserable.  Like he’s made me.  “ _ I’m _ the one you betrayed.   _ I’m _ the one the whole school’s going to be talking about.  When the parents find out… I’ll be kicked out, you know.  No one’ll want their children going to school with a werewolf.”

He slumps down on a bed, cradling his face in his hands.  His voice comes out muffled by his fingers.  “I’m sorry.”

My stomach lurches;  _ I _ feel guilty for making  _ him _ feel bad.  I sink down on the opposite bed—Peter’s—and stare at nothing for a long while.  My anger begins to burn away.  I feel awful still, but the rage has gone, at least for the most part.

I hear Sirius get up and walk toward me, and the bed shifts as he sits next to me.  “I didn’t think about what I was doing,” he murmurs.  “I could just see the look on his face when he came face to face with a werewolf.  He would have been terrified.  I was stupid…  I told Peter, and he told James, and James came to me…  He thought, or he hoped, I was just joking with Peter.  But I wasn’t.  He was furious.  He yelled at me, and then ran to stop Snape, and then I realized… but that was a little too late, wasn’t it?”

I look over at him.  I’m not sure why he’s telling me all this, or if he expects a reply.  I answer anyway.  “Yes, it was.”

“Do you hate me, now?”

I laugh—I can’t help it.  It seems ridiculous hearing Sirius ask that question.  “Do  _ you _ hate  _ me _ ?” I ask in return.

“Of course not,” he replies softly.  “I was stupid.  I care about you, too much to do something this stupid, and I don’t know… I’m not sure how it happened.”

“You just hate Snape more than you care about me.”

He makes a curious noise in the back of his throat.  I look over at him—he looks as horrible as I feel.  “No, Remus, you know me, I’m just…  I don’t think sometimes…  I mean… Snape is nothing to me, not like you, I just…”  He trails off, slowly meeting my eyes.  They’re gray, deep, heart-wrenching, as much like a wounded puppy now as ever—I start to look away, but he stops me, repeating, “Do you hate me now?”

“No.”  My heart throbs painfully in my chest—I can hardly bear to look at him.  James was the one who cared.  He stopped Snape, though I can’t remember it. But Sirius is more important to me.  I never realized it until I thought I lost him, or never had him in the first place.  “I’d never…  I was just… angry.”

He bites his lip, hesitating, and then pulls me into a hug.  “I know.  I deserve it.”  His breath tickles my ear.

“I forgive you,” I murmur.  My heart aches.  Maybe later, facing the school, I won’t feel so forgiving, but right now Sirius is the only thing that matters.  I pull back to look him in the eye.

He leans toward me, his eyes flickering, but stops when I can feel his breath mingling with mine.  My heart jumps, and I instinctively close the distance between our mouths, my breathing shallow and quick.  I’ve never really kissed anyone, but this feels right—warm, soft, and sticky.  Sirius takes over, and I can tell he knows what he’s doing far better than I do.  The rhythm is easy, natural to pick up on, though… and soon I’m not thinking anything.  I’m lost, like nothing else exists or matters but this moment.

Sirius pulls away, and the loss of contact stuns me.  I open my eyes and look at him, but he’s standing, almost stumbling away.  “Sirius—”

He turns back to me and says, “Not right now, Remus.  Wait… wait until you see everyone else.  The school.”  His gray eyes are glittering with something I don’t quite understand, but the reminder of the school, my secret, twists my stomach in knots.  Or maybe that’s the fear that I’m being rejected.  But I nod, and he leaves.

* * *

I can’t believe it, but Snape apparently hasn’t breathed a word about my secret.  By the end of afternoon classes, I still haven’t had anyone ask me about being a werewolf, or point at me and whisper fearfully, or otherwise show that they see me in any way out of the ordinary.

“I don’t understand it,” James says.  “I mean, I’m glad, of course… but honestly, I expected the whole school to know.  Of course, he might always use it as blackmail, or he might just be waiting…”  He glances at me apologetically, but I don’t mind.  I’ve been thinking the same things.

“I think if he was going to say anything, he would have by now,” I tell him honestly.  “And he can’t really use it as blackmail, I don’t think.  Dumbledore wouldn’t let him, would he?”

“I don’t think so,” James says.

“Do we really need to talk about it?” Lily asks softly.  “This is all new to me, anyway—I just found out about Remus two weeks ago, and then Sirius”—she obviously hasn’t forgiven him, even if I have—“tells Snape…  I’m just glad things worked out for you, Remus.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, smiling faintly.  Honestly, I can’t stop worrying over Sirius, and why he’s been avoiding me all day, even though there hasn’t been a whisper of anyone knowing my secret.  I feel almost guilty, as if I’ve done something I shouldn’t have or something to make him not want to be around me.

Maybe James will have some advice.  I start to ask him something—anything—but I begin to blush furiously at the thought, and change my tack.  I don’t need to mention Sirius.  “James… I… er… I think I may like someone, a friend, but I don’t want to… I don’t know…”

He raises an eyebrow at me quizzically and asks, “What, Moony?”  He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, watching me.

“Er… nothing, never mind,” I say hurriedly, changing my mind.  I suddenly remember what Sirius said about not being able to talk to James seriously, turning things into jokes.  I don’t want that.  “It’s nothing, really.”

James looks suspicious, but he returns his attention to his Potions homework, twirling his quill idly between his fingers.  He leans over his parchment, resting an elbow on the table and twining his fingers in his messy black hair.  I look over at Lily helplessly, and she smiles, tucking her red hair behind one ear.  “Remus, you want to go sit by the fire?  I think we’re distracting James.”

I nod a little uncertainly—I can tell she wants to talk more than let James concentrate.  I’ve been getting to know her; she and James are always together now, and though I’m not sure if they’re actually a couple yet, I’m certain something is happening between them.  She’s become a part of us Marauders’ daily routine, and we know her nearly as well as we do each other in some ways.

Lily sits on a couch near the fire, curling her legs up on the cushion and motioning for me to sit beside her.  I glance back at James first, but he’s busy working. I realize that he and Lily really have something between them at this, because he trusts her completely, not worried that she’s off with another guy.  I sit beside her on the couch, leaning against the arm opposite hers.

“Is there someone you’re interested in?” she asks.  She doesn’t sound nosy. I can tell that she genuinely wants to help if she can.

“A friend,” I reply slightly uncertainly.  She watches me with steady green eyes, waiting patiently for me to continue on my own time.  “I’m a little worried that I might have made him—I mean…”  Lily’s eyes widen a little, and I attempt weakly, “Her, I meant…”

She puts her fingers against her lower lip, watching me silently for a moment.  Finally, she says softly, “He or she, what’s the problem?”

Relief washes over me, and I know she can tell.  A smile pulls at the corner of her mouth, but she doesn’t say anything.  “I just…  I think I made him uncomfortable.  He’s kind of… avoiding me.  And I’m worried.”

Now she looks surprised.  “It’s Sirius, isn’t it?  Even after what he did?” she asks, and I can tell she’s more taken back by the fact that it’s  _ Sirius _ than by the fact that it’s a male I’m talking about.

I nod slowly and murmur, “I guess it made me realize how I feel.  I thought he didn’t care, and it hurt. I’ve always been a little jealous of Sirius and James, because they’re best friends, and they’re closer to each other than to me or anyone else.”  I want to continue, but the rest of how I feel is a little too personal to share with Lily.  I just watch her apprehensively, not sure what she’ll say.

“I think I understand,” she says after a moment.  The firelight is flickering over her thoughtful face, making her emerald eyes bright. “All you can really do is talk to him. There’s no other way to find out what he’s thinking.   _ I _ think, though, that he wouldn’t have any reason to avoid you if he didn’t care.  If he didn’t care, do you think he’d have a problem facing you and telling you so?”

She makes sense.  I can certainly tell what James sees in her.  “You’re right.  I should go find him.”  I start to get up, but pause.  “Thank you, Lily.”

With a soft smile, she replies, “Don’t mention it.  And… don’t worry.  I won’t tell James.”

* * *

I find Sirius in the library, leaned over his homework in much the same manner as James, but with his right hand twined in his hair while his left hand holds his quill and scribbles out short lines of his half-cursive and half-print handwriting.  I slide into the seat across from him, and he drops his hand from his hair and looks up instantly, pausing when he realizes who it is.  “Hey,” he says vaguely, watching me as if not sure what to expect.

“Hey,” I reply slightly hesitantly.  I think he can tell that I’m worried I’ve done something to make him angry or uncomfortable; at the very least, he can see that I’m not angry, and he looks visibly relieved.  “I don’t think Snape’s going to tell anyone, or he would have by now.”

“You sure?” Sirius asks, twirling his quill a bit nervously.

“Pretty sure,” I answer.  “Dumbledore can’t really stop him from saying anything, but I don’t think he’d just let him try to blackmail me or anything.”

He nods, but adds, “It’s probably better if we don’t give him too much reason to get mad at us, though, or he might change his mind.”

“Yeah.”  There’s a long silence. He drums the fingers of his right hand on the tabletop as if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing.  I watch him, but he barely meets my eyes.  When I can’t stand the silence anymore, I murmur, “You mad at me, Siri?”

He snorts, and he looks like the familiar Padfoot I know and love for the first time in a day.  “Of course not.   _ You’re _ the only one who has any right to be mad right now.”

“But I’m not,” I murmur.  “And you’re still avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t—” he starts to say, but he seems to think better of it.  “I guess I was.  I was just worried about what you’d say.  I didn’t want you to be… angry, or disgusted, or something.”

An intense wave of relief floods my system, and I can feel my cheeks warming.  “I was worried about the same thing, so I think we’re on the same page.”

He grins ruefully.  “Good.  It’s not like I’ve done this before.”

I’m not sure whether to be surprised or not.  I’ve never really thought about two blokes kissing, but it doesn’t exactly seem like something Sirius  _ wouldn’t _ do.  But maybe that’s because he’s just done it.  I watch him the same as he watches me, his dark, tousled hair falling into his face.  I can understand why all the girls like him.  What I can’t understand is why he’d like me—I don’t have nice clothes, my hair doesn’t look good whether I comb it or leave it alone, my eyes aren’t anything remarkable, and while I’m not too heavy or too thin, there’s nothing about my frame that really stands out.  I suppose I’m lucky enough not to be deformed or anything.

“You okay?” Sirius asks, concerned.

I nod, offering a small smile.  Deciding it’s about time to change the subject, I ask, “So, what’re you working on?”

He looks down at his homework as if he’d forgotten all about it and then replies, “Oh, that History of Magic paper from a month back.”

I laugh and tell him, “I’m surprised you’re getting started on it this early!”  I move around the table, taking the chair next to Sirius and scooting it closer to him to take a look at what he’s written so far.  “The medieval witch trials, huh?”

“Yeah.”

I settle in for a long session of facts, work, and ink blots.


	8. Angry

_ Thursday, February 7 (Sixth Year) _

 

_ Padfoot _

After Herbology, doubled with the Ravenclaw sixth years, James told me that he wanted to do something special for Lily for Valentine’s Day.  “It’ll be a Hogsmeade weekend just after Valentine’s Day,” he said, “and I’m not exactly sure if we’re officially going out or not, but…  I want to have a real date with her, and make sure it’s something she’ll like.  I know you’ll have detention then, but if you can help me plan something…”

“Course,” I replied.  I’ve been irritated that he spends all his time with Lily over the last month, but with James and me, it doesn’t matter.  We never hold grudges.

That was before lunch. Since then, every spare moment when Lily isn’t around we’ve spent planning something for Valentine’s Day and the following Hogsmeade weekend.  There’s always a Hogsmeade weekend around Valentine’s Day, and traditionally Hogwarts students going on dates for the holiday wait for the weekend, at least for any big plans.  I don’t want to plan something completely traditional for James, or Lily won’t be surprised—and she’s more likely to enjoy a surprise, as long as it’s a pleasant one.

We’re in the library ‘working on our homework’ together.  Lily didn’t seem worried or put up any sort of fight when James told her we wanted to work alone for a while, and I think it made James a little concerned, but I don’t think he has any reason to worry.  Lily’s a good girl.  She likes spending time with him, but she doesn’t insist on ruling his schedule like some girlfriends do.

“So, no flowers or anything,” James says, and he puts up a valiant effort not to look disappointed as he scribbles something almost illegible on his piece of parchment.

I shake my head.  “No, big displays of flowers are obvious.  You’ll probably embarrass her, even though she’d appreciate them.”

“Well, I want to give her  _ something _ on Valentine’s Day, even if most of whatever we plan is for the Hogsmeade trip,” he mumbles, twirling his quill between finger and thumb.

I start to jot something down on my parchment, but my elbow bumps his, and I roll my eyes.  “Switch sides with me, Prongs.  We  _ always _ do this.”  Being left-handed can be irritating when you’re sharing a table with right-handed friends or classmates.  We get up, switching seats, and then I get back to the business of deciding what he should do for Lily on Valentine’s Day.  “Something she’ll think is sweet, but not too embarrassing.  It’d be much easier if we could get into the girl’s dorms, then you could put something on her bed…”

“I could get one of the other girls in her dormitory to put something there for her,” James suggests.

“Not as good,” I reply, shaking my head.  “Then someone besides us will know before she does.”  I frown for a moment in thought, then brighten.  “Just slip something in her bag that morning at breakfast.  Something small, but… I don’t know, romantic.  And put a note on it to ask her out on the date at Hogsmeade.”

He nods, approving, and breaks into a beaming grin.  “Only question is, what should I give her?”

I think for a little bit, running through things I might give girls and abandoning them.  This is James—it needs to be something especially from him.  So I think about the things that make him James… and what sticks out is the Snitch he bought from a Quidditch supply shop toward the beginning of fifth year that he still likes to show off with every once in a while.  It’s especially poignant because he’s a House Chaser, not the Seeker.  “Do you still have that Golden Snitch?” I ask.

“That?  It’s stuffed in the bottom of my trunk somewhere, I haven’t pulled it out in ages… but yeah, I have it,” he says a bit off-handedly.  “Why, what d’you think?”

“You can use it.  Do something special to it for her, and sneak it in her bag.  I’m not sure what, but it’s probably better if you think of it anyway.”  I pause for a second, then add, “You can probably get her something else, too—less mobile so a note will stick to it better.  She’s Muggle-born, right?  Maybe one of those Muggle stuffed animals.”

He nods slowly, thinking it over.  “Yeah, that could work.  I’ll think of something.  And for Hogsmeade—you said not to take her to a café or something, but what should I do?”

“Well, you can take her to a café if you want,” I tell him.  “It’s just that every other couple will be doing that, too, and you want to do something special for her. Something she’ll remember later.”  He nods, giving me a look that tells me to continue.  “Okay, well, I figure we need to find you something romantic, but not… overdone.  What all is Lily interested in?”

“Well, I don’t know anything she likes that’ll really help with this,” he says doubtfully, but I’ve already got an idea forming in the back of my mind.  I wave a hand for him to be quiet for a minute while I work it out.

“You can take her for a picnic.  It’s cold out in the snow…  A snowball fight would be fun, and maybe romantic, even, but eating on the cold ground won’t really unless you’ve got something to distract her.”

“A view?” James suggests.  “I don’t think she has a broom.  She probably hasn’t gone flying since we learned in first year.  Maybe I can take her flying?”

I nod, grinning.  “Yeah, that’s perfect.  And you can have a picnic up high somewhere.  On a roof, or in a tree, but that’d be awkward.”

“Shhh!” the librarian hisses, and we grin ruefully as we realize that we’re getting too loud in our excitement.  Bowing our heads together, we continue to plan in hushed whispers.

* * *

_ Moony _

The moment he finishes eating, Sirius rushes off with James before I can put in two words, and I’m left walking toward the common room with Wormtail.  I shake my head to myself, watching the blond sixteen-year-old out of the corner of my eye.  “Hey, Peter.”

He smiles a little uncertainly and asks, “Are you feeling any better?”  I can tell he’s asking for his own well-being as much as mine; if I’m still angry, he wants to get out of the way as quickly as possible.  I smile to myself as I realize that I haven’t really talked to Peter since before the full moon, and even though he can see that I’m doing fine, he probably needs assurance that I’m not angry with him.

“Much better,” I tell him.  “I’m sorry I was so awful that morning.”

He grins, his face flooding with relief.  “I understand,” he replies, shifting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.  “I’m glad Snivellus hasn’t said anything.”

I know he uses the name ‘Snivellus’ because Sirius and James always do… did.  I haven’t heard them call Snape that for a while, though, and I’m glad.  To Peter, I say, “Don’t call him that anymore, okay?  We don’t need to give him any reason to get mad.”  In truth, I never really saw the point in calling him that nickname, and I don’t just want the others to stop calling him that because he might get angry—I’m a little grateful to him.  He hasn’t given away my secret.  Granted, James said he would be punished if he did and he promised Dumbledore he wouldn’t, but that wouldn’t stop him if he wanted the school to know about me.

Peter nods seriously, though, and promises, “I won’t give him any reason to get angry with you.”  I restrain the urge to laugh; he has good in mind, even if he sounds a little… Peterish.

“Thanks.”

We start climbing stairs, carefully avoiding trick and vanishing steps. The portraits seem to be particularly chatty today, and they keep saying hello to us as we pass.  Maybe it’s the weather, or even Valentine’s Day next week.  Some of them  _ do _ look rather enthused with holiday spirits, and I even see a wizard with lip stick marks all over his cheeks where he’s apparently been attacked by a particularly affectionate someone-or-other.

When we pass a corridor leading from the general direction of the Potions classroom, we nearly run into Snape, who’s too busy shoving a book in his bag to see us coming.  He looks up, shutting his bag, and his face grows sullen when he realizes who it is.  “What are you doing around here?” he asks nastily, his hand moving reflexively to his pocket, but he doesn’t pull out his wand.

“We’re just heading to our common room,” I reply as peaceably as I can.  Despite feeling appreciative that he’s keeping my secret, it’s difficult to suppress the feeling of loathing for him that rises up whenever I see him.  We’ve been enemies too long for  _ that _ to change.

“Need an escort, do you?” Snape sneers at Peter, fixing him with sharp black eyes.  “Figure the big bad werewolf will scare away any other nasty creatures out for your blood?”  Those eyes dart back to me, and I can tell that he hates me more than ever. And he isn’t afraid.  At least, not now, when it isn’t the full moon.  “I’d be more afraid of the werewolf turning on me, myself.”

I carefully ignore the insult.  Peter shifts uncomfortably, unsure what to say, his expression falling somewhere between angry, defensive, and wary.  He glances at me uncertainly, and I finally murmur to Snape, “I appreciate that you haven’t told anyone.”

His jaw clenches, his gaze not wavering from mine.  “I don’t have a choice,” he replies icily.  “If I hadn’t promised Dumbledore otherwise, the whole school would know by now.”

At least he’s honest, I suppose.  And he’s keeping his word, even if only to avoid getting in trouble with the headmaster.  “I think Lily may be right about you,” I say quietly, off-handedly.  If Sirius is right—and I’m sure he is—about Snape liking Lily, this might just make his day.  At the same time, it’s true.

Snape’s expression softens almost imperceptibly, and after a beat, he snaps, “I have somewhere to be.”  He shoulders between Peter and me, and I hear his footsteps receding down the hallway.

I smile a little to myself and exchange a glance with Peter.  Wormtail looks a little concerned, but I’m not.  “I think he hates you even more,” he says.

“I don’t really mind,” I reply.  “Who cares about him, anyway?”

* * *

“Where’re Sirius and James?” I ask Lily, sliding into the seat across from her at a table in the common room as she works on one homework assignment or another.  I haven’t seen much of Sirius in two days, and I’d like to talk to him, not least about the encounter with Snape.

She sits up and sets down her quill, looking grateful for the reprieve, and stretches her back, running her fingers through her shoulder-length red hair.  “Off somewhere, planning something, I imagine,” she replies, her voice sounding like it’s hiding a yawn.  “Being awfully mysterious, they are.”

She’s not concerned in the least, which is more than I can give myself credit for.  I haven’t seen Sirius alone since helping him with his paper in the library.  Maybe it’s the old jealousy of their friendship (which I had hoped I was over), but I feel like maybe Sirius is abandoning me for James the moment he’s asked for.

“How’s the homework coming?” I ask her in an attempt to distract myself, pushing thoughts of both Snape and Sirius out of my mind.

“Fine,” she answers, “but dull.  I’ve always hated Herbology homework, but the classes are okay.”  She looks down at her parchment and shakes her head, barely suppressing a yawn.  “I’ve still got another inch or two.  I’ve run out of things to say, so I’m basically adding irrelevant facts.”

I laugh and nod.  “I haven’t started yet.  Doesn’t look like I’m missing anything, though.”

She smiles her agreement.  “I should probably finish, though, Remus.  I know you’re bored,” she adds, giving me an apologetic look.

“It’s fine, maybe I’ll start mine,” I reply, and I wave as she returns to her work and go to get my bag.  I find an empty table, drag my school books over, and pull out the books for the two essays I haven’t done yet.  The Herbology one I share with Lily is due Friday, and the Potions one is due Monday, so I decide to follow her example and start with the former.

I tune the low buzz of noise in the common room out and get to work, focusing on the scratch of my quill on parchment.  I need eight inches on Devil’s Venom, a relative of Devil’s Snare that has poisonous thorns on its vines.  My handwriting’s bigger than Lily’s, but it’ll still be a pain to finish.

I’m halfway through by the time James and Sirius make their way through the portrait hole, whispering to each other and grinning madly.  My quill stops scratching of its own accord as I watch them. James nods to Sirius, laughing, and claps a hand on his shoulder before nodding back at Lily.  Sirius nods and watches Prongs make his way over to Lily’s table. Once he sits next to her and she greets him with a smile, Sirius scans the common room, catches sight of me, and grins as he makes his way over toward my table.

“Hey,” he says.  “What’re you doing?”

“Homework,” I shrug, brushing my hand across my parchment and accidentally smearing a bit of ink.  The damage isn’t bad, though, and I ignore it.  “What have you and James been up to all day?”

“He wants to do something special with Lily for Valentine’s Day,” Sirius replies.  “Asked if I can help.”

“You’ve been aggravated with him all month for spending all his time with Lily,” I point out, a little confused and annoyed.  “You just got over it that quickly?”   _ I’m one to talk _ , I think. But that’s different. I doubt James has apologized for ditching us so often.

“Well, yeah,” he replies with a dismissive shrug.  “It’s James.  We’re best friends.”

I feel inexplicably angry for a moment, but then I realize what’s irritating me.  James and Sirius are best friends.  The moment James wants him, Sirius forgets all about me.  I haven’t had a chance to talk to him all day, and after seeing Snape…  I just feel second-best.  The accompanying feeling of guilt wells up, but I push it away, getting all the more annoyed.  “I haven’t talked to you all day.”

“We can talk now,” Sirius says quizzically, raising an eyebrow at me.

I give a sigh that’s actually more of a huff and snap, “James has been ignoring you all month, but the moment he wants you, you forget all about  _ me _ and spend all day planning with him so he can  _ ignore _ you more while he uses your plans for him and his new girlfriend!”

Padfoot’s eyes widen, then narrow.  In what seems like an effort to keep the peace, he replies, “I’m sorry—you could have just told me you wanted to talk.  I didn’t know.”  His words come out a little stiff.

“You could have told me you were going to be planning with James in the library,” I point out.

“Sorry!” he says loudly, exasperated.  “I didn’t realize you needed to keep tabs on my whereabouts all day!”  The volume of our voices is beginning to draw stares from around the common room.

“You owe me more than this!”

He stops dead, giving me a cold stare, and then nods stiffly.  “Fine.”  He pulls out his wand and gestures with it, muttering a charm under his breath. His coin purse floats down the stairs from our dormitory, and he takes it, opening it and starting to pour coins out on the table in front of me.  Silver Sickles, bronze Knuts, even a Galleon or two.  “Here.  What’s a fair amount for me betraying you, do you think?  Take it all.  I don’t care.”  He drops the bag carelessly on the table, glaring down at me.  “I never realized how you are, Remus.”

And then he turns his back and walks away.


	9. Interlude : 1981

_1981_

_Padfoot_

I lean over the crib, glancing at Harry again, like any time before except for the dread permeating the room because of the reason for my visit. Only a year old, and already he looks just like both his parents. He has James' jet black hair, impossible to tame, and when he's awake, he looks out on the world with Lily's beautiful green eyes. He looks so peaceful, now. I still can't imagine what has to be wrong with a person to send him after a little boy this innocent, bent on killing him at all costs...

"Sirius, are you about ready?" James asks. I turn to look at him, his arm around Lily's shoulders. He looks as though he hasn't slept in weeks. I only hope that once this spell's over and done with, he and Lily can rest a little easier knowing that they're safe in their best friend's hands.

Peter's sitting on their sofa, looking altogether uncertain why I asked him to come. He's been a nervous wreck lately, and I can hardly blame him. He's showing on the outside what all of us are feeling on the inside. Lord Voldemort's growing stronger and stronger, and now Dumbledore tells us he's after Harry. The world has become a scary place.

I've been thinking long and hard about this, and I have a sort of plan. James is watching me curiously, wearily, waiting for me to say something, so I decide it's time to tell him. "I think you should make Peter your Secret Keeper." All three of them look startled, but none so much as Peter. The blood has drained from his face. Lily and James cast a sidelong glance his way.

"M—me?" he asks. He seems to be thinking very hard.

"Don't worry," I tell him. "We won't tell the others. Everyone will still think I'm the Secret Keeper, and they'll come after me. Then, even if anything happens to me, it doesn't matter. Peter's still protecting your whereabouts." I don't explain all the reasons behind my sudden decision to switch with Peter. More importantly... but I think of Remus, and the bottom of my stomach drops out.

"Only Dumbledore and Remus know you're going to be the Secret Keeper," Lily says quietly, watching me with those green eyes of hers. She's always been able to see right through me—through all of us. "So there's no reason for you to switch... unless you think one of them is _his_ spy." That special emphasis on 'his' spy—Lily refuses to resort to saying He Who Must Not Be Named, but she's not fool enough to say his name aloud, either. And of course she sees right through me, straight to my fears. The thought of Dumbledore being the spy is, of course, ridiculous... and that leaves Remus. That's her reasoning. I arrived at the conclusion by a different line of reasoning, but she's right.

I still feel like I'm betraying him, though, by thinking that. It's been over a year since the fight, but I still feel loyal to him. I can't just tell her she's right. Instead I say, "I'm the obvious choice. Everyone knows James and I are best friends. They'll expect me to be able to find you, at least, but maybe they won't suspect Peter." I look over at Wormtail; he doesn't look offended, and I'm glad. I don't mean it badly. No, he looks lost in thought, pallid with fear. "I'll be like a decoy."

Lily isn't fooled, but James nods and says, "Okay. We'll make Peter the Secret Keeper, then, if he's willing." He looks over at Peter. Neither of us really expects Wormtail to refuse, though I could understand him being scared at first. In the end he'll agree. He always does.

"Of... of course," Peter says. It still sounds like he's uncertain. He runs a hand back through his blond hair, his eyes flicking between the three of us. For some reason, he reminds me intensely of the rat he chose as his Animagus form at this moment. "I'll do it."

I turn back to the crib, glancing down at baby Harry. He stirs in his sleep, turning on his side and putting his hand up to his face, his fingers curled against the side of his nose. I shake my head to myself. I still can't believe that someone would want to kill him. Even worse, I can't believe Remus would be a part of it.

I hear Lily's clear, gentle voice from behind me. "James, Peter, why don't you go in the other room and get that over with? Sirius and I will stay with Harry." James and Peter don't reply aloud, but I hear them leave the room, their footsteps loud in the silence. After a moment, I hear Lily walk up behind me, and I feel her hand on my back. "What makes you think it's Remus?" she asks gently.

I appreciate that she's leaving James and Peter out of this. I can talk to Lily about Remus. She was the first one to know about us, and she never gave us any sign that she minded our relationship or was even unpleasantly surprised when she found out. I think she's always known that it's natural for us, and she never thought there was anything wrong with it. Not like some of the people who've found out about us. Not that James and Peter aren't understanding. It's just always easy to talk to Lily. She has a way about her that makes anyone feel comfortable.

I don't reply for a long moment, but finally I turn away from Harry's crib, going to sit down on the sofa. Lily sits next to me, propping her knees up against the back of the sofa and curling her feet up beneath her as she pulls that colorful hair of hers out of her face. "You remember that fight we had?" I ask her, thinking back to it and biting the inside of my cheek.

She gives me a concerned look and nods slowly. "You still haven't forgiven each other after that?" she asks. "That was back when James and I got married!"

I nod. "He was always so upset about James and I being best friends, and he blew up after the wedding. He was really angry." Understatement. I remember what happened; _You never said so much as one word to me the entire wedding!_ And me, _I was best man! I was with James!_ I don't remember Remus being angrier. _You didn't even_ notice _I was there! You wouldn't have cared if I didn't show up._

"You've had fights before," Lily points out. "Every couple does. What made this one different?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly. "It was the same for me, it's Remus who's been different. That's what makes me think... Well, I mean, I'd be glad to make up... I miss him," I tell her miserably. "And I feel awful for it, thinking he's the spy and missing him at the same time."

She smiles sadly, putting a hand on my arm, and assures me, "Even if he is, Sirius, that's not the Remus you're missing. It's the old Remus."

I nod mutely, putting my elbows on my knees and leaning forward, supporting my head with my fingers twined through my hair. I stare blankly at the floor, scuffing my booted foot over the hardwood.

"Don't worry," Lily murmurs, sitting up and putting an arm over my back. She leans forward, pulling at my hand until I'm looking at her. "I'm sure it isn't him any more than it's you. We've known Remus too long."

"Then who is it?" I ask, my tone dead and hopeless. "There's no one else, is there?"

* * *

I can see the smoking ruins before I ever get there, and my heart stops. I can't believe it—Lily and James—it isn't real. I'll get there, and they'll be waiting for me... scared, maybe, and horrified at the destruction of their home, but safe. I can see Lily now, baby Harry bundled in her arms.

The roar of the motorcycle cuts off as I land, and it feels strange having my hair fall loosely around my face again instead of being blown back by the wind. I get off the motorcycle, taking in the ruins of the house, and I can feel my chest tighten. I can't believe this is real. I'm shaking, and I know the blood has to have drained from my face. I move closer to the ruins, hardly daring to breathe.

A hulking shape looms from the ruins, carrying a bundle in its arms. It, too, is shaking. I can hear a distinctive muffled sobbing, and I realize who it is: Rubeus Hagrid. I stumble over to him and ask, "Hagrid... They're alright, aren't they? Please?"

He sees me, realizing who I am, and shakes his head miserably. He holds out the bundle, and I see baby Harry nestled inside. "Bastard killed 'em both. On'y little Harry survived."

For a moment, I can't feel anything past the shock. Lily and James... gone... It seems like the world has stopped spinning. Tomorrow the sun won't rise. No, it can't be. But the world comes spinning back into focus when I realize that at least Harry is left—ironically, the very one Lord Voldemort was after, and he's the only one to survive. And I'm his godfather. Someone has to take care of him now. "Hagrid, I—I'll take him, I'm his godfather."

He shakes his head again, this time determined. "Dumbledore tol' me t'bring Harry straight t'him."

I nod; Dumbledore will know best how to protect Harry, for the moment. And anyway, there's only one way this could have happened to Lily and James, and that's if Peter told where they were hiding. And I'm the only one who knows that. I have to go after the bastard. I nod distractedly to Hagrid and tell him, "You can take my motorcycle." I nod to it; Hagrid needs it more than me. He isn't supposed to use magic. "I won't need it," I add grimly.

Hagrid nods appreciatively and starts for the flying motorcycle. I don't stay to see him off; I pull out my wand, Apparating straight to Peter's house. There's no guaranteeing he'll be there, but it's a start.

I appear in the living room, and I immediately hear sounds and muttering coming from the direction of Peter's room. I keep my wand ready, moving as quietly as I can toward the door to his bedroom; it's slightly ajar, and I can see his shadow against the wall through the crack of the doorway. I think he's throwing things hastily into bags. Coward—packing to run.

I reach the door, holding my breath and slowly, carefully beginning to shoulder it open. My heart stops when it creaks. I can see Peter. His head shoots up, looking at me with a startled, frozen expression. "S—Sirius!" he says, sounding exactly like the rat he is.

My first instinct sneaking up on him had been to curse him before he could get a chance to run away, but seeing that traitor face... Hate boils up in me. "Lily and _James_ , Peter. How could you? How _could_ you?! What are you getting from Voldemort, hm? I hope it's worth betraying your friends, because the deepest parts of hell are reserved for people like you." I can feel bile rising in the back of my throat. We've trusted Peter for years—we've been his friends. We would have done anything for him!

"Sirius, you don't understand—" But he stops, and I see him raise his wand. Before he can cast the curse, I duck aside, ending up back in the hallway. I hear it whiz past my head, and then I lurch back into the room just in time to see him scrambling out the French doors leading to the backyard of his home. I race after him, wand up and ready, only to find him heading into the Muggle town he lives in the outskirts of, the place beginning to stir in the early morning. The sun is still low in the sky, the colors of dawn still a memory in the east.

I don't dare try to curse him carelessly with stray Muggles wandering about, but I chase close after him, keeping my eyes out for an opening. I'm breathless, and it has more to do with how angry I am than with how fast I'm running. Peter was always slower than James and me, but he's using speed I never knew he had. He must realize his life is in the balance, because if I catch him, I'll kill him, I will...

 _But I can't, no one knows I wasn't the Secret Keeper—and I'm not like that—am I?_ No. I'm not, I'm not. But I have to catch him. I'll bring him to Dumbledore—he'll know what to do with the little rat.

Peter begins to slow, and I can tell he's running out of strength. It's nearly over. Once he tires, I'll have him. _For James and Lily._ I put on an extra burst of speed, my hair streaming behind me, and clutch my wand. My chest is throbbing.

But Peter is smarter than I give him credit for. Just when I think he's let himself get cornered, he veers onto a side street full of Muggles—at least a dozen of them. I slow to a stop, glaring at him. I can see on his face that he has something planned. He looks desperate—it's a last-ditch attempt—but he has _something_.

I watch, transfixed with horror, as he severs his own finger—the index finger of his right hand. "James and Lily, Sirius—how could you?" he says loudly as he throws it almost imperceptibly in my direction, moving his hands more quickly than I ever would have guessed he could. Only then do I realize that this is for show. And I can do nothing but watch as he points his wand behind his back, destroying the street behind him—staring Muggles and all—with a single curse and morphing into a rat. He escapes into a gutter in the chaos, and I stand stunned.

And then, with all the destruction and devastation around, I find myself laughing. Hysterically. I can't believe it. All this time, I've been worried that Remus was the spy, and I handed James and Lily over to Voldemort's spy on a silver platter.

I laugh... even as Ministry wizards swarm around me... I laugh... but it's out of despair.

* * *

_Moony_

By the time I see it, Ministry wizards have been crawling over it for hours, searching what's left of the ruins from top to bottom. I know there's nothing left to find. But still I wend aimlessly through the wreckage of James and Lily's house, taking it all in with unseeing eyes, everything bleak and lifeless. I was the last to know. I didn't even know they had already made Sirius their Secret Keeper. My heart twists into knots... And I push thought away. All thought.

The house is obliterated. It hardly seems real even that Harry survived, but I know he did. I didn't get to see him, but it's not as if I would question Dumbledore's word. Everything is unrecognizable. I can see James and Lily dying in my mind's eye, and I try to block it out, but it won't go away.

I hardly notice Dumbledore is near, watching me walk through the ruins, stepping over the rubble of walls and furniture. But when he speaks, I stop, listening silently. "I'm afraid there's nothing to find, Remus."

I turn slowly to look at him, and my mouth forms the question I've been blocking out of my mind. "Did he really do this? Sirius couldn't—he wouldn't have—never—"

"He was their Secret Keeper," Dumbledore says quietly. "The Ministry found him just as he was tracking down Peter. Witnesses say he blew up Peter, along with the entire street behind him, and thirteen Muggles... I'm sorry, Remus."

I bite my lower lip. I already knew, but hearing it again seems to make it real. I blink back tears. All three of my best friends, and Lily, who I was as close to as any of the Marauders... all of them gone in the span of a day. All of them. I have no one left.

I force myself to think of other things. Numbly, I ask, "Will Harry be okay?"

Dumbledore nods, his blue eyes glinting sympathetically. "He is with family, as I told you. They will raise him until he is of age to go to Hogwarts."

I nod mutely. A breeze stirs the air, winding its way through the ruin of James and Lily's house, lifting my hair and playing through Dumbledore's long white beard. He watches me much as Lily might have, waiting for me to find my own time to speak. At length, I murmur, "I should go. Thank you, Dumbledore."

He gives me a single slow nod, and I can't help noticing that the air around him is more gloomy and depressed than it has ever been. He always seems irrepressibly hopeful and bright, but not now.

I turn away, glancing over the ruins a final time as I take out my wand. Dimly, thoughtlessly, I Apparate home. When the familiar setting comes into focus around me, I drop wearily onto the nearest seat, the stool by the kitchen island. I put my elbows on the island, pressing my forehead against its cool surface. I let my forearms rest over the back of my head, my hair tickling against my skin.

I've just lost all the people closest to me. James and Peter, my best friends. Lily, who I often felt closer to than even James, and who could listen to anything I had to say seriously. And Sirius, who I still love, still miss, in spite of everything.

Am I betraying James, Lily, and Peter's memory?

But I can't help it. My heart aches for all of them. Sirius most of all. I admit it with no small amount of guilt. I haven't been close to him in over a year. And now he's gone. I'll never have that chance again.

He's in Azkaban. He's a traitor. He killed Peter, a dozen Muggles, and he as good as killed James and Lily—he helped try to kill Harry, an innocent child.

But I miss him. I want him. And I mourn him as much as the rest.

In my head, Lily's voice echoes as clearly as if she's here with me.

 _It's okay, Remus. I understand. We... understand._   

 


	10. Apologetic

_Saturday, February 9 (Sixth Year)_

_Padfoot_

Madam Pomfrey really doesn't have much for me to do, but I have to hand it to the woman—she's good at improvising tasks for me. So far I've scrubbed the hospital bedpans, changed the bed sheets, restocked the cabinet of potions, swept and mopped the floors, and cleaned up a nasty spill of some sort of medical potion that doesn't look like it could possibly actually be the _cure_ for anything. Right now she has me running down to the kitchens to get lunch for one of the Hufflepuff House Chasers. Even she isn't sure who cursed her before the game today, but I'm fairly certain it was a Slytherin since that's who the Hufflepuff team was due to play. The poor girl looks like she was attacked by flesh-eating slugs, but I try not to say anything about it to her. I don't want to upset her any more than she already is.

I shift the bundle of food I'm bringing back to the Hospital Wing in my arms, my thoughts drifting to the fight Remus and I had Thursday night. I'm still not exactly sure what brought it on. I know Remus was upset that James and I spent all day together planning a Valentine's surprise for Lily, and he's been avoiding looking at me since then. I'm still planning with James, though more sporadically now that we have most of the details worked out. He's working on finding a way to Transfigure his Snitch into a winged golden heart, but so far he's finding it rather difficult. Snitches are already spelled with strong magic.

I frown, pushing my thoughts back to the matter at hand as I near the Hospital Wing doors. Madam Pomfrey sent me for more food than Angie, the Hufflepuff girl, could possibly eat, but I suppose she's taking precautions in case there are fresh casualties in the wing after the Quidditch game ends. Thinking about it, that seems like a wise precaution to take—the Slytherins tend to play rather rough, especially this year since Gryffindor and Hufflepuff actually have good teams. I shoulder open the doors to the wing, smiling at Angie when she looks up at my entrance. She blushes vividly, and I can tell she wants to hide her face, so I tell her honestly, "You're already looking much better. Madam Pomfrey's clearing that curse right up."

She whispers something that might be a 'thank you', but I'm not altogether certain. I shrug a shoulder and turn to find Madam Pomfrey when Angie pipes up quietly, "She's in her office." She sounds hesitant, but definitely not as shy as I thought at first. I have a feeling that if she wasn't in a right horrible state after being cursed, she would be surprisingly outgoing.

"Thanks," I reply, shooting her a smile, and I head for Madam Pomfrey's office.

The slightly plump woman looks up as I enter, her scratching quill lifting from a small piece of paper. "Oh, good, you're back," she says in her perpetually bustling voice, glancing down at her writing. "Give Miss Thomas a tray of food, would you, while I finish this up? Eat something yourself while you're at it."

I nod and shut the door to her office, looking back at Angie, who's been watching me. She blushes a little but doesn't look away. I manage to keep from rolling my eyes and hope that this girl won't try flirting with me too much, much less giving me a note telling me she likes me. Thinking about it makes me remember Remus, and I sigh a little. I glance down at the food in my arms. I haven't even thought about eating until now, and my stomach gives an admonishing rumble as if to say, 'What, you forgot about me?' I give Angie a rueful look and ask, "Hungry?"

She nods and replies, "A little."

"Mmkay." I make my way to the bed next to hers and settle down on it, putting the sack of food (given to me by overexcited house elves) beside me and taking some out. The smell of delicious food triples; already my robes are saturated with it after carrying it halfway across the castle. My stomach rumbles as I pull a tray from Angie's bedside and begin putting her lunch on it. The rumbling shifts vaguely to nausea as I glance up at her face. Madam Pomfrey's cure is working wonders on what the curse did to Angie, but she still looks awful, and I'm going to have to look at her as little as possible while I eat if I want to keep from ruining my appetite.

She didn't seem notice the look I gave her when I took in her raw, peeling face again, thankfully. "So, Sirius," she says, apparently in an effort to initiate some small talk, "how did you get detention with Madam Pomfrey?"

I can tell she's genuinely curious. I can also tell that she expects my answer to be that it was some prank or another, as per usual. I frown to myself as I remember the actual reason for my detention, and guilt shoots through my abdomen anew. I still can't believe Remus forgave me so easily. It's funny, really. He forgave me for that so quickly, but he's still avoiding me over our little spat on Thursday. _Little..._ my mind scoffs at me. I remember my reaction to his words. 'You owe me more than this!' I had been so angry, then. I couldn't believe he was bringing up the full moon again—I knew I was stupid, and I thought he forgave me—maybe he did—but I don't want him bringing it up every time I do something he doesn't like!

"Sirius?" Angie asks through a bite of potatoes.

I almost jump, realizing that I haven't answered her question. "Oh..." I begin absently setting out what I'm going to eat on my own tray, avoiding Angie's eyes. "It was... stupid. I deserved it."

I can tell by the silence that she's confused and by her stare that she's highly curious, but it takes her a while to say anything. Finally she murmurs, "I heard it had something to do with James being in the Hospital Wing. He was hurt. Some people think you got in a fight or something." She sounds almost apologetic, as if she doesn't want me to think she's buying into a rumor, especially if it isn't true.

I smile grimly to myself as I push around a bit of carrot on my plate with a fork. For a moment I don't reply as I think about what really happened. Yes, James and I had a fight, in a manner of speaking. But it wasn't James I hurt, it was Remus. I shake my head to myself as I tell Angie, "No, that's just a stupid rumor. It was my other friend I hurt."

"Who?" There's a short silence, but she still replies before I can: "Pettigrew? Or the other—Lupin?"

"Remus," I answer. "But I don't really want to talk about it."

"Oh... sorry," she says. "I know it's none of my business." And with that, she falls silent, which isn't as welcome as I thought it would be. It leaves me alone with my thoughts.

I'm starting to feel guilty about snapping at Remus Thursday. Well, I was already a little guilty, but now I'm actually letting myself think about it. Yesterday morning when I got dressed, I found every bit of my money back in my trunk, but Remus never said a word to me. And when I think about it, he's right. I do owe him something. I can't help feeling a little miffed that he seems to want me checking in with him about where I go, but he's right. James is my best friend, and he's always been my priority. I never thought it might make Remus feel bad, not until recently. Not until he as much as told me so, really.

I nearly got him expelled from school, or at the very least his secret might have been exposed, and he forgave me. He... kissed me, or I kissed him, I'm not sure which, precisely. And the moment James wanted me, even after a month of devoting all his time just to Lily and practically forgetting I exist, I dropped Remus to help plan for James and Lily's Valentine's Day. I can see why Remus might feel like I don't think he matters, but I don't think that at all—James is just like a brother to me, that's all. I live with him, and we've always been closer than most families who share blood.

I've hardly touched my food when Madam Pomfrey emerges from her office. I don't notice she's there until she says, "I've only got a few more things for you, Mr. Black. Once you're done eating, you can get them out of the way, and then you're free to go."

I look up at her and nod. I catch myself hoping she doesn't find as much for me to do tomorrow and mentally berate myself—I deserve this punishment, and more. No complaints... not even to myself.

* * *

_Moony_

When Lily returns from the Hufflepuff-Slytherin Quidditch match, I'm surprised to find that James isn't with her—and I'm also a little relieved. As the only one who has any idea about Sirius and me, she seems like someone I can talk to. And I really need someone to talk to. I've avoided Sirius since Thursday night, and every time I see him, I feel horribly guilty. But there's been no one to talk to; whenever Lily has been around, it has been with James at her side, and I didn't feel comfortable trying to talk to her about Sirius with James hanging around. It's ironic, really—James is one of my closest friends, but I feel more comfortable talking to his girlfriend... though I'm not sure that term is accurate, yet. I don't think they've declared themselves to be a couple.

She sees me as she enters the common room and makes her way over to the table where I'm sitting, scribbling on my Charms homework. She greets me with a smile as she slides into the chair across from me, brushing her red waves of hair back from her face. Her cheeks are pink, and she looks pleased, her eyes dancing merrily. "I didn't see you at the game or at lunch," she tells me, and I can tell it's a question despite its phrasing.

I return her greeting smile, setting down my quill with an exhausted sigh. I didn't go to the game more because I've been feeling horrible of late than because of homework, but that doesn't mean that the workload our professors are piling on us is any less heavy. I quickly dismiss the idea of blaming it on homework, though. "I didn't much feel like going. Where's James?"

She smiles ruefully and folds her hands on the tabletop, clearly amused. "He forgot about a big homework assignment that's due on Monday," she informs me, her eyes twinkling. "Got quite a bit of researching to do, he has, and I think he'll be cooped up in the library for the entire weekend. So it was just Peter and me at the match."

"No Sirius?" I can't help asking. "Did he forget the essay too, then?"

She gives me an inquisitive look, and I can't help but feel as if I'm missing something. "Did you forget about his detention?" she asks me, idly fingering the badger pinned to her robes, showing her support of Hufflepuff in the match. When I just give her a questioning look, she says, "He has detention every weekend for the rest of the year after what happened on the full moon." Her voice is soft, gentle, as if she doesn't want to remind me of the touchy subject, but I don't mind thinking about it so much. I'm just caught off guard—no one told me about Sirius' punishment. I remember our fight again almost reflexively. I've been trying to put him out of my head since Thursday, and every time I slip and think about him, the fight comes rushing back with a fresh wave of guilt. And now another onslaught of guilt as I realize that I was so upset over Sirius spending every spare moment planning a Valentine's Day for Lily and James—when he'll be in detention that weekend, with no chance to go to Hogsmeade for his own holiday.

"Remus, are you alright?" Lily asks me. I realize that I've been staring past her, my eyes unfocused in thought, and I snap back to attention. She has those green eyes of hers trained on me, and she looks quite concerned. "I've noticed you and Sirius avoiding each other the last few days," she adds. Then, almost hesitantly, "Does it have something to do with Thursday night?"

Oh, yes. Just about all of Gryffindor noticed the end of our little argument, including Lily, and probably James—though he hasn't mentioned it, at least not to me. I nod, folding my arms on the table and sighing as I look at her. "I was upset because of all the time he was spending with James." I close my eyes and add, "Stupid, I know. It's just that Sirius has been a little peeved all month because James isn't spending as much time with him anymore—" I don't add the reason for that, but Lily's expression tells me that she knows it's because James has been spending all his time with her—"and then the moment James asked for him, he just forgot all about me. That's how I felt, at least."

Lily nods and says to me gently, "James and Sirius have always been best friends. I know how you feel, a little... Sometimes I feel like I could never be as close to James as he is to Sirius."

I nod, relieved that she understands how I feel, even though I don't quite believe she needs to worry about that herself—not considering how long James has been after her. "I said some stupid things, and I made him angry, too. I feel guilty, now. Especially since... Well, I'm still a little jealous of how close they are, and I know I shouldn't be." I can't help marveling to myself at the way I feel like I can say anything to Lily, and she will listen. Things I can hardly admit to myself. And she never acts like I'm being stupid or doing something wrong. Not when she knows I'm serious about what I'm saying.

"It's natural to get jealous, sometimes," Lily assures me. "Just try not to focus on it. Talk to Sirius when you get the chance—calmly, this time."

"You saw how angry he was at me, though," I tell her. "I acted like... like he's in debt to me or something, and I don't want him to ever think I'm like that. We're friends, and we shouldn't have to feel like we owe each other anything. And I don't want him doing anything because he feels like he has to, you know?"

She nods and says, "People say things they don't mean when they're angry. Just tell him how you feel."

I give her a nod, and then drop my head to the desk, groaning. Rolling my head to the side to look up at her from an awkward angle, I murmur, "I don't know how you do it."

She laughs quietly and asks, "Do what?"

"You seem to know all the right answers. And you listen to me without making me feel stupid." _And you know about Sirius and me, but you don't act like there's something strange about it._ I keep that last part to myself, but she seems to hear it anyway.

"You're welcome," she says simply, smiling. "Now go find Sirius."

* * *

In the end, I wait for Sirius rather than attempting to go find him. Since he's in detention, it won't do much good going to find him anyway. It isn't long before he turns up, though, crawling through the portrait hole into the common room. I put away my homework—which I haven't gotten much accomplished on, anyway, since talking with Lily—and wind my way through the common room to reach Sirius.

He sees me coming and heads toward me, as well. "Hey," he greets me when we meet, looking as if he isn't quite sure whether to expect me to get angry or change my mind and walk away.

"I'm sorry," I say immediately, without any build-up. "I was stupid, the day before. I didn't mean it." I search his face, hoping that he'll tell me that it's okay, but I'm surprised at his expression. Guilty.

"Let's go talk in the dormitory," he says quietly. I watch him quizzically, but I nod, and we head together for the stairs leading up to the sixth year boys' dorm. I glance over to where Lily's sitting, idly twirling her quill as she watches a couple of third years' antics, a grin twitching at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes slide over to meet mine, and she nods encouragingly before returning her attention to the boys playing some new form of Exploding Snap.

Once we reach the deserted dormitory, Sirius closes the door behind us as we enter, turning to face me. He watches me silently for a moment, and I give him a questioning look. He looks like he's been doing a lot of thinking, but so have I. It looks odder on him, though. He rarely ever seems completely serious, perhaps in defiance of the way his name sounds, but right now he's as solemn as I've ever seen him. His deep gray eyes watch me steadily for a long moment before he says, " _I'm_ sorry. You were right. I just ignored you all day, and I _do_ owe you more than that."

"No," I reply vehemently, shaking my head. "No, you don't owe me anything, okay?" I run my fingers through my hair, frustrated that I ever said something so stupid to Sirius—what kind of friend am I? I know people make mistakes, and I don't want to be the sort of friend who holds grudges forever and never lets go of what's happened in the past. More than that, though, I don't ever want to have to worry that James, Peter, or Sirius is doing something for me because he thinks he _has_ to. "I was just confused, that's all... I mean, we _kissed_ , Sirius, I guess I wasn't just expecting things to go back exactly the way they were..." I feel myself blushing furiously, and I berate myself mentally. I don't want to be embarrassed by this! _Sirius has so much more experience with things like this than I do._ Part of me doesn't want him to know that, even though there's no way he _couldn't_ know. We've been friends all through Hogwarts—it's not as if he could miss the fact that I've never had a real girlfriend. The only kiss I had was from a girl in the year below me who was feeling especially grateful when I helped her study for and pass her end-of-year Transfiguration exam back when I was in fourth year.

Sirius doesn't look at me for a while, biting the inside of his cheek. After a moment he goes to sit on his unmade bed, looking up at me, and he says, "Still, I'm really sorry. Especially about that last bit." His eyes flicker to his trunk, and I know he saw that I replaced all of his money. He looks down at his hands and says, "That was a low blow. I know I shouldn't have."

I wince a little, remembering. I've never had a lot of money, due in no small part to my being a werewolf. It's almost harder on my parents than on me. Most people where I live know about me, and they're reluctant to hire my parents for anything knowing that they have a werewolf son. But I've already forgiven him—I deserved it, and at any rate, Lily's comment rings in my ears again, _People say things they don't mean when they're angry._ "It's okay," I tell Sirius. I feel stupid, standing around like a nub.

"It's not, really," he replies, and I can tell he's still guilty—which makes me feel bad, in turn. This isn't how I wanted things to go. Granted, it's better than I feared, but a guilty Sirius is nearly as bad as an angry Sirius telling me to shove off.

I sit down next to him, feeling slightly exasperated, and say, "Look, we both said stupid things, but we didn't mean them. And we're both sorry. So... I think that settles it, don't you?"

He looks up, giving me a funny sort of grin, and replies, "Yeah, I guess you're right." He drops back on the bed, lying down with his legs hanging off the edge. He puts his hands beneath his head, looking up and over at me. "James is like my brother," he explains, watching me with a sort of expression that tells me he wants me to understand. "We don't hold grudges. I thought you'd understand that—I mean, look what I did, and you forgave me for that. I wish he'd spend time with us, not just Lily, but I understand. You know how long he's liked her."

I nod, turning toward him and crossing my legs underneath me. My knees brush against his hip and ribs. "I do understand, and I'm glad you weren't mad at him. I was just confused." I hesitate before I continue, but then admit, "I felt like you were brushing me off. Like I don't matter next to James."

He gives me a disbelieving glance, shaking his head. "Remus..."

"I know," I interject quickly.

He eyes me for a second, then takes a hand from beneath his head, grabbing my arm and pulling me down toward him. I uncross my legs, putting down a hand on the bed on the other side of him to support myself, as he pulls me down until my face is over his. Then he lets go as if to say 'Your move.' I watch him for a second; he goes to open his mouth to say something, but I ignore it, pressing my lips to his and closing my eyes.

I feel his arm move to rest on my back, and he pulls at me to bring my body closer to his. I move my knee to his other side, letting my opposite leg hang off the edge of the bed, and press my torso against his. He moves his mouth under mine, arms around me. I can feel his breath, warm, but no comparison to the heat of his mouth.

He rises up on one side, and I turn with him until he's lying on top of me, opening my eyes to look at him as our lips break contact for the barest of instants. I feel his fingers in my hair as his eyes flicker over my face, and then he kisses me once more. His weight on top of me feels wonderful, his body heat merging with mine.

Footfalls on the stairs. "James—"

Sirius' head jerks up toward the door, and I press my head back against the mattress, getting a part-sideways, part-upside-down view of the dormitory door as it opens. James stands there, glancing back at Lily behind him before his gaze falls over Sirius and me. He stares.  


	11. Matchmaking

_Saturday, February 9 (Sixth Year)_

_Padfoot_

I glance down at Remus, who's craning his head to look at James standing in the doorway, and then back up at James. Lily, behind him, has her hand over her mouth; her expression is a mix of amusement, embarrassment, surprise, and apology. To Remus and me she mouths, _I tried to stop him._ I stare at her much like James is staring at Remus and me—how does she know?

Belatedly, I scramble off of Remus, and I have to think about whether or not I want to offer him a hand to help him up—but in the end, I do. I don't want to seem like I feel guilty about anything, after all. I just made up with Remus, anyway, so I don't really feel like creating another opportunity for an argument. No. James has been blissfully oblivious about this for nearly a week, and that's long enough. He'll have to find out eventually, and it's not like I want to keep secrets from him.

Remus takes my hand, standing next to me like a kid who's just been caught stealing out of a cookie jar. James looks between the two of us, gawping wordlessly for a few moments, before Lily nudges him roughly in the back and he stumbles a couple of steps into the dormitory. "I—er—am I interrupting something?" he asks weakly, still staring. Behind him, Lily rolls her eyes, looking highly amused. I'm glad _she's_ confident—personally, I'm worried James is about to have a heart attack.

When no one says anything, Lily steps into the dormitory, settling herself down comfortably on a bed and looking between all three of us. Then she says, "Obviously yes, we're interrupting something, James. And this is the part where Sirius and Remus explain that they've taken a liking to each other, and nervously wait to see whether you're going to pass out, look disgusted, or tell them you're fine with it even though you were a little surprised at first. The latter, I hope."

I stare at Lily, completely taken off guard, and once I can think again, I feel an intense respect for her flood through me. I glance over at Remus, who is—I'm surprised to see—looking quite as amused as Lily; the two of them exchange a glance that tells me they've talked about this already. That explains why Lily wasn't very surprised. "Er... yeah, that," I murmur, looking back at James. He looks a bit like he's recovering from seeing a ghost, and that hair of his sticking up at odd angles is definitely helping the look.

"Right..." James mumbles, seeming to slowly collect his senses. "I don't... What have I missed?" He looks frozen mid-step, but he's beginning to recover, and after a few moments he goes to sit next to Lily on Remus' bed.

I notice Remus is still holding onto my hand after I pulled him up; his eyes follow mine to our hands, and he lets go, blushing. I can't help blushing a little myself as I turn back to look at James. "Well... after the whole thing on the full moon... er..." I trail off, not sure how to explain all this, and not certain whether James really wants to know or was just groping for words to stall with.

Thankfully, Remus picks up from there. "The thing with Snape made us realize what we... think of each other," he says, blushing horribly. "I was afraid Sirius didn't care about me, and that's why he didn't mind telling Snape." He glances at me, offering a small smile, before looking back at James. "We talked... and... er..." And now he trails off, looking rather helpless. I remember kissing, and I can't help but smile; James just gives me an odd look.

Lily elbows James, and he says automatically, "So, er, odd way to get together, then, isn't it...?" He massages his ribs, watching us the way we might stare at Snape if he suddenly started playing Quidditch and caught the Golden Snitch.

I frown, thinking about it. I haven't considered the fact that Remus and I might be thought of as 'together'. I glance at him, and he looks a little stunned, as well. "I guess," he mumbles to James, but he's still looking at me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lily rolling her eyes again. She hisses something in James' ear that might be "Could you get over yourself and ask a real question now?" He starts a little, running a hand through his hair as his eyes come back into focus. His expression clears.

"Right, then, well, this has been... interesting... er... Sorry to interrupt?" I'm not sure if the questioning half of that statement is directed toward us or Lily, but she takes his arm and stands him up, steering him out of the room. She looks back at us over her shoulder just before they leave, winking and mouthing, _He'll get over it._ Then she shuts the door behind them and their footsteps sound on the stairs down toward to the common room.

I glance back at Remus a bit awkwardly, and he stares at me for a second before asking in a quiet, uncertain voice, "Are we?"

I fight the urge to laugh. _Does snogging count as a first date?_ But I decide on instead, "Do you want to be?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but then snaps it shut, thinking hard. I feel my gut clench, and to myself I marvel, _I've never worried about a girl's reply... yes or no, it would have made little difference to me._ This is different, though. I'm afraid Remus will say no. _Afraid_. It matters to me. Part of me wonders, _But what would it be like—two blokes dating—not like a boy and girl, no one'd find something strange about that._ It's not unheard of, this, but it still turns heads. Not something you see every day.

"It will be... odd," Remus says finally. "To say the least. But I do."

I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. I pull him into a tight hug and kiss the side of his neck, quick and impulsive. When we break apart, I give him an amused, slightly mischievous look and say, "We're the Marauders. We're expected to be breaking out of the ordinary, now aren't we?"

He laughs and nods. "I can't disagree."

* * *

"I get the feeling that there's more bothering him than he lets on," Lily tells me idly, glancing over at James and Remus with their heads huddled close together at a table in the common room. I don't know if James has gotten over the shock of seeing Remus and me together in the dormitory, but he seems to be feeling perfectly normal again. I have a feeling Lily had something to do with that. I can tell she's curious about what James and Remus are talking about—I convinced Remus to ask James about his plans for Lily so I could talk to her alone for a bit—but she's worrying about Remus rather than trying to pry. She glances back over at me and adds, "He won't tell me everything, you know. I can tell there's more he wants to say, but I suppose he doesn't know me well enough. I hope he told you everything, though."

I frown as I think back to the few serious conversations Remus and I have had recently, and decide that he seemed content afterward, not like he was holding anything back. So I reply to her, "I think he did."

With a nod, she answers, "Good." She doesn't look remotely put off by the fact that Remus doesn't seem to know her well enough to be completely open with her. She really is remarkable. I don't remember her being this, well, wise during our first few years at Hogwarts, but I guess she's growing up now. More quickly than us Marauders, it would seem.

"He talked to you before me," I murmur, and I'm not sure if I'm saying it for her—not that she seems to need any reassurance about being Remus' confidante—or for me. "He trusts you."

She gives me a funny look, raising an eyebrow. "I suppose," she says. "But you two weren't exactly talking, and we all know James is a little..." she searches for the correct word, "well, _featherbrained_ when it comes to talking about serious things." With an amused grin, she finishes, "I was probably just the first person he thought he could talk to, after you, considering the row you'd just had."

I grin and nod ruefully. "True enough."

"I'll admit I was surprised to find out that he cared for you like this, at least at first," Lily tells me, giving me an appraising look. The hint of a smile curves her lips. "He forgave you first of all of us, and you're lucky he did. I don't think he realizes how much his friends care for him. I don't think James would have forgiven you for ages if Remus hadn't done it first." I can tell by her expression that she wouldn't soon have forgiven me, either, and I'm surprised by—but appreciate—her honesty. She isn't afraid to let me know what she thinks. With a suspicious pursing of her lips, she adds, "You won't hurt him, will you?"

It feels as if my insides have been hollowed out, and I can feel my breath rattling around inside me. It's a curious sensation, and I'm not completely certain what's brought it on. Lily's words, obviously, almost an accusation... but something more than that, too. "Of course I won't," I reply softly, with decidedly less vehemence than I intended.

She looks me up and down in silence for a moment, her green eyes bright as she measures some intangible quality about me, her stern expression reminiscent of McGonagall. Momentarily, though, her visage softens, and she nods. "I couldn't help asking," she tells me, and I'm not sure whether she's excusing her behavior or giving me reason to question my word. Judging by what I've seen of Lily lately, probably the latter. "I know your history with girls. Half the girls in my dormitory have cried over you at least once. But I think that maybe it will be different with Remus." Her expression seems to impress on me that it had better be different with Remus, and I smile. She's right. He has better friends than he knows.

"I think you're right." It's an answer for both the spoken and unspoken things she's said.

She gives me a warming smile, an amused flicker in her expression. She sees right through me, that much is clear. And she approves of this, of me and Remus.

I feel a slight tingle of guilt, and I hope her faith is well-founded. I don't want to hurt Remus.

* * *

_Moony_

Halfway to the Hospital Wing I meet Peter, who's looking like he's recovering from a bout of queasiness. "Remus!" he says when he sees me, and I can tell that he was getting worried after not seeing me all day. He smiles exuberantly, bouncing a little, whatever nausea he'd been experiencing apparently gone in an instant.

"Hey, Wormtail," I greet him with a grin. On some days, his overexcitement can be annoying. Today, I'm a bit too ecstatic for anything to upset me, so I simply find him amusing, especially thinking about the plans James is working on for him. "Coming back from the Hospital Wing?"

He nods, falling in step beside me, apparently oblivious to the fact that I'm heading back the way he came from. "I think I ate something bad at lunch," he replies with a grimace. "Madam Pomfrey fixed me right up, though."

I can't help another smile. For all that Peter loves to eat, he has a lot of mild food allergies, many of which he forgets continually. He's nearly as frequent a visitor of the Hospital Wing as I was in my first four years of school, before James, Sirius, and Peter became Animagi. Idly, I ask him, "Planning anything for Valentine's Day?" The holiday is about the only thing on my mind right now. I've just been talking to James, and he told me all about what he and Sirius have been planning for his and Lily's Valentine's Day. Feeling particularly respectful of Sirius, putting so much work in something he won't have himself because of his detention with Madam Pomfrey, I asked James if he thought I should plan something for Padfoot—he agreed, smiling, and told me he'd plan something for Peter so that he wouldn't feel left out.

Peter plays with the watch he's wearing, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Not really," he admits. "What about you?"

I struggle with the impulse to hint that James is going to plan something for him. I don't want to ruin the surprise, but Peter looks thoroughly miserable at the prospect of a lonely Valentine's Day. Instead I distract him with, "Sirius has been planning something with James for him and Lily. I'm about to see if Madam Pomfrey'll let Padfoot out of detention for the day of the Hogsmeade trip so I can do something for him. Want to come?" I know I don't need to ask; Peter's already coming with me. Still, it'll make him feel good.

He beams and nods fervently. "I've just seen her, too, and she looked like she was in a good enough mood," he tells me. We reach the doors to the Hospital Wing, and he drags one door open, bouncing in with me at his heels. "Hi again, Madam Pomfrey," he greets her cheerfully.

I catch sight of her just in time to note the suspicious look on her face as she asks, "Back again, Mr. Pettigrew? Is there anything you need?"

He shakes his head and says, "No, Remus has come to see you." She looks past him to me, and instantly her face warms in a smile. After years of her taking me down to the Shrieking Shack every full moon, we know each other fairly well, and I think she's rather fond of me.

"Hello, Remus," she says. "What can I do for you?" She bustles over to a Hufflepuff fourth year's bed, handing the girl a potion to drink. I recognize the girl as Angie from the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and smile as she waves brightly to us. Peter waves back. She looks like she's recovering from a skin sloughing curse, but though there are a few shiny red patches on her face, she's nearly back to normal. I take note of her mentally; James might be able to talk to her about Peter.

I feel slightly nervous about asking Madam Pomfrey to let Sirius out of a day of his detention. She takes student health very seriously, and I doubt she will like the idea of lightening a punishment for endangering someone's health, especially on the one day when Sirius is most likely to feel the weight of it. Without preamble, however, I ask, "D'you think you could let Sirius off his detention, just for the Valentine's Hogsmeade trip? I'll take his place."

She raises an eyebrow at me, straightening from leaning over Angie, who's watching me quite curiously. "Of course not!" Madam Pomfrey says, as if I've made the most ridiculous request she's ever heard. "You did nothing wrong—you will not be taking anyone's detention."

My feeling of disappointment lifts a little—she hasn't said no to letting Sirius off his detention, only to me taking his place. Still, I feel that this will be a rough bargain to negotiate, especially with the stern set of Madam Pomfrey's features. "Well, alright, but all the same, could he have the day off? I... I would really appreciate it."

She looks me up and down suspiciously, and I can tell she's wondering if Sirius has put me up to this. I meet her gaze evenly—she knows me better than that. I would ask for Sirius if he wanted me to, granted, but she would _know_ he had put me up to it. This is different. "It was your..." She glances at Angie, and changes her mind, but I can tell what she was going to say. _It was your secret he gave away..._ At that moment, I feel confident that she'll agree. She just looks at me for a few seconds more, and finally sighs, "I'll think about it."

That's as good as a yes, but I'm careful to rein in the smile that wants to spread across my face. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. Please don't tell him—if you do let him off, I'd like it to be a surprise."

She smiles, then looks out of the corner of her eye to see if Angie has taken her potion. The Hufflepuff girl swallows it hurriedly, smiling over a grimace.

Satisfied, Madam Pomfrey turns to me one last time. "I'm surprised you'd be so eager to get him off his punishment, considering," she says, suddenly serious. "I can tell that reckless boy hasn't put you up to it, and that's even more surprising."

My faith in her decision falters. My fingers twist and untwist, nervous. "We've made up," I tell her. "He didn't mean harm."

"Not to you, maybe. But to the other boy...?"

I glance suddenly to Angie, keenly aware there's another set of ears in the room. My stomach twists, reminded of how much a disaster it could have been. Of the bandages on James' chest for two weeks from protecting Snape from me. It should seem absurd, but instead it makes my pulse race. "He didn't think it through." The words could be for her or for me, I'm not even sure. "He didn't mean harm, honestly."

Her stare is appraising, but finally she says, "I'll consider it, as I said." Some of the sternness leaves her expression. "Well, it's good to see you again, Remus—now I need to send an owl for more Pepperup Potion, if you'll excuse me." And she hurries back to her office.

Peter looks about how I feel, his hands balled into fists and crossed under his arms. I force a grin his way. She'll probably still say yes, after all. Maybe. I'm about to turn to go when Angie says, "So you're Lupin?"

I face her, surprised and curious, and she flushes almost imperceptibly. "Remus," I correct her almost without thought, moving to stand at the foot of her bed while she watches me.

"I saw Sirius Black in here earlier, having his detention," she explains, playing with the empty cup of potion in her hands. She's pretty, if a little plain: slightly wavy chestnut hair, a small, upturned nose, and eyes with a hint of amber to them. "He was awfully nice."

I'm caught between two conflicting thoughts: _Sirius,_ awfully _nice?_ and _I hope she doesn't want me to ask him out for her._ However, I just reply, "Okay..." The inflection of my voice turns it into a sort of question, prompting her to continue.

"He mentioned you," she says. "When I asked him about how he got his detention. There were rumors," she blushes a little as if embarrassed to have believed them, "about him getting it because he hurt James, but he said it was you."

My eyes narrow in disbelief, anger. Why would Sirius tell this girl...?

At my confusion, she hastily amends, "He said he hurt you, I mean."

Relief floods me as I understand. "Oh," I reply, and I feel my cheeks warm, "did he?"

She nods, and I can tell she's getting to the point of this conversation—what she's been wanting to ask the whole time. "He seemed awfully upset, guilty like, and... I was just wondering..." She trails off for a moment, blushing faintly—but then again, I'm blushing too. "He seems so sensitive..."

My eyelids flutter, and I hardly contain a groan. I should have known it was coming—I had, but when it hadn't come in the expected way, I thought I was wrong. She continues, oblivious. "I didn't realize he was caring, like that, and... do you suppose...?"

"No," I reply flatly, startling even myself. Then, hastily, I attempt to gentle my tone as I add, "If you like him, then you should talk to him. Er... He's more likely to..." My gut tightens—me and my stupid mouth. I could have left it at no, maybe have a laugh about it with Sirius, but no—I go giving her advice—

The startled expression fades into a beaming grin on her face, and she says, "Thanks."

I shake my head as I leave the wing, Peter trailing beside me.  


	12. Valentine's

_Saturday, February 16 (Sixth Year)_

_Moony_

I wake with a start about an hour after dawn, and for a moment I don't realize what woke me. I sit up groggily, looking around, my heart pounding. Everyone's sound asleep in bed, not bothered to wake early on a Saturday, even with the Hogsmeade trip in a few hours. When I glance over to the window, I notice an owl barely managing to keep itself standing on the ledge outside the glass, a letter in its beak. It looks rather irritated, ruffling its feathers at me. I realize what woke me: it ran straight into the window.

With half a grin, I move over to the window, sliding it open and letting in a chill blast of wintry air. The owl hops into the dormitory, glaring at me admonishingly, as if I should know better than to leave all the windows closed when there are owls about trying to get their deliveries done. I try to look apologetic rather than laugh, note the name on the letter it's carrying, and point it to a sleeping Robert Long. The owl glides over, drops its letter on Robert's head, and then soars back to the window ledge; there it pauses to give me one last disapproving look, ruffling its feathers at me, before soaring out of sight.

I grin and look at Robert, who hasn't stirred despite the letter dropped on his head.

Sirius mumbles something in his sleep, rolling over in bed, and his blankets drop to the floor. I smile, amused, and glance over to James, expecting him to have been woken by the activity in the dormitory; he, though, is fast asleep, and I hardly blame him. He spent all of Thursday and Friday with Lily, talking to her in the common room into the early hours of the morning, and he has to be exhausted, though pleased. Lily loved his gift; apparently she found it while rummaging through her bag in the library, and the Snitch caused quite a stir flitting through the aisles, Transfigured into the shape of a heart. She wasn't even the least upset at being told to leave the library. The stuffed stag James gave her once she found him delighted her. I was there to watch that part. I have a feeling James is contemplating telling her that he, Sirius, and Peter are Animagi, which makes me more than a little nervous, but I trust Lily.

As Sirius gives another grumble and shivers a bit, I realize that the window I've left open is creating a chill draft. I close it quickly and then walk over to Sirius' bed, bending to recover his blankets from the floor and drape them over his sleeping form.

He swats at my hands lazily but with surprising force as I draw the covers up over his chest, and I start, muttering an "Ow!" even though it doesn't really hurt. Sirius' eyes flutter open, and he stares at me for a second, looking quite confused.

Then he sits up, looking around sleepily and rubbing his head. He yawns, lifting his arms over his head, and asks, "What're you doing? Not planning mischief on me, are you?"

I laugh at his drowsy inquiry and drawling tone, but shake my head. "You kicked your covers off."

He regards me suspiciously for a second, his gray eyes dull and sleepy and his hair in disarray. Then he shrugs and murmurs with a touch of playful sarcasm, "Oh, how sweet." Through another yawn he asks, "Wha—at time is it?"

I shrug and reply, "Early," as I sit down on the edge of his bed, narrowly missing sitting on his legs.

He's waking up now. With a grumpy frown, he says, "I ought to go eat so I can get to the Hospital Wing on time."

At this, I smile mischievously, drawing my lower lip in between my teeth. Madam Pomfrey came through in the end. It took some effort to keep Sirius from finding out that I got him off of his detention, but I managed it, saving the surprise for this morning. So it gives me great pleasure to tease, "What, and miss the Hogsmeade trip?"

He gives me a glare that's a little hot, and I can tell he doesn't realize that I have something up my sleeve—he thinks I'm being mean. "I asked Madam Pomfrey to take today off your punishment, and she agreed," I explain. I meant to draw it out more, but I'm no match for that hurt look on his face.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then a smile creeps over his features, and he says, "Did you really?"

I nod, grinning. "I offered to just take your place for today, but she said no."

Now he looks stunned. "Rems, you didn't," he murmurs, and after a moment he laughs a little. I find myself flushing. "Of course she said no." At the look on my face, he adds, "Better this way—I mean, I wouldn't want to go to Hogsmeade without you, y'know. What point would there be in getting to go if you weren't coming, too?"

I can't help my smile. He just laughs and looks around the room at our sleeping yearmates for a moment, noting that we're the only ones awake. He nods to James and comments, "He must be exhausted. Usually we would have woken him up by now."

"Let him sleep," I say, grinning. Teasingly, I add, "He has a big date today."

Sirius pouts at me and asks, "What, and I don't? Couldn't let me get my beauty sleep?" For a second, I'm confused; the Hufflepuff, Angie, flashes across my mind. Then Sirius gives me a playful shove and, in a 'duh' tone of voice, says, "You, Remus." A second's pause and then, a trace uncertainly, "Right?"

Relief and understanding—as well as an intense feeling of my own stupidity—wash over me. Of course. I hate that I keep jumping to moronic conclusions. This is new to me. Through an idiotic grin, I reply, "Right. I just hadn't thought about it that way."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Will you stop that? You keep worrying me." I laugh at him, but he reaches out and pulls me close for a short kiss, and when he releases me I feel heady and surprised. He glances me up and down, noting my pajamas, and says, "Let's get dressed and go walk. We can come wake James up for a late breakfast so he has a chance to sleep in."

I nod and get up from his bed, going to my trunk to dress in my Hogwarts robes. Sirius wears ordinary wizard robes for the trip, a dark gray that matches his eyes with black trim along the cuffs, neck, and bottom. My Hogwarts robes are the nicest ones I have, but that's fine with me. I grab a comb as I watch Sirius drag his fingers through his hair, working out the tangles. I can tell he went to bed with it still damp from his shower. I comb through my hair quickly, not really expecting too much from it, and then turn to look at Sirius expectantly.

He grins at me and strides over, standing in front of me and reaching up to run his fingers through my hair. It tickles my scalp, and I laugh, half-heartedly attempting to pull his hands away; he doesn't let me, tilting his head as he finger combs my hair to his liking. After a second he nods smartly and says, "There, now stop worrying."

I ease toward a mirror, but he grabs my arm, laughing. "No, I said to stop worrying. Come on, let's go!"

I get the suspicion that either he was just messing with my hair to make me feel like he was fixing it, or worse, he completely ruined it and just doesn't want me to see before someone else gets to notice and have a good laugh. I let him drag me down the stairs to the common room, though, self-consciously trying to reach for my hair with my free hand to run my fingers through it—but Sirius grabs that hand, too, and drags me behind him into the common room, where we find Lily yawning and curling up on a couch. She looks up at the sound of stampeding feet coming down the stairs, along with several other Gryffindors lazing about the common room, and grins when she sees us.

I push Sirius toward her—not that he needs the goading—and as we reach the sofa, he lets go of me and slides over its back to take up the cushion next to Lily. I walk around to the sofa arm, sitting myself on it and putting one leg behind Sirius, between his back and that of the sofa, and letting my other leg dangle off the edge. I put my arms over Sirius' shoulders to steady myself, and he looks up at me, mouth twitching into a grin.

"G'morning," Lily says, thinly veiling the yawn in her voice. "Where's James?" Her face glows at the mention of James' name. She's really taken with him now, and I'm glad. It took the two of them long enough.

"Still sleeping," Sirius answers.

"He'll look a fright if we get him up now," I add with a mischievous smirk. Lily gives me a sideways grin, her eyes sparkling. "We were going to go for a walk and then come back to wake him for a late breakfast."

She blinks and says, "Well, I'll go with you. I need to wake up."

As she stands up, I give a mock groan and complain, "But I was just getting comfortable!" Sirius laughs and reaches up a hand, planting it in the center of my chest and pushing me backward. I go tumbling off the sofa arm, hitting the ground with a rather uncomfortable thud; when I look up, murmuring an "Ow...", Sirius is staring at me over the arm of the chair and grinning evilly.

I roll my eyes and take his hand when he offers it, and he pulls me to my feet. "Nice hair, by the way," Lily comments, looking at me, and I flush and ruffle my hand through my hair in an attempt to restore it from whatever damage Sirius has wreaked.

Padfoot sends Lily a dry look and says, "Brilliant, you had to say something." But he's teasing, and she laughs, grinning at me.

* * *

We've just managed to stop Lily's curious questions about what James has planned for her today (apparently her stoic patience has reached its limit, which is a bit of relief, since it shows she's still just a teenaged girl) when we run into Snape passing near the Great Hall.

He stops in his tracks when he sees us, his eyes passing from Lily to Sirius to me in quick succession, looking quite surprised and displeased to have run into us.

Lily is first to speak, and I can tell that she's attempting a friendly tone, though it's nothing like the one she uses with us Marauders. "Good morning, Severus," she says. "Are you going on the Hogsmeade trip?"

He mutters something noncommittal under his breath, his eyes narrowing when he looks at Sirius and me. I can tell that he doesn't want to start a fight in front of Lily—and I realize that he doesn't think Lily knows that I'm a werewolf, or he'd have loosed some venomous comment about it by now that only we four can hear.

He starts to brush past us, but Lily says, "Severus—you should go to Hogsmeade. It's a holiday, you know... you should have some fun."

He turns back, actually giving her something akin to a glare, and drawls in a forced tone, "I don't celebrate fool's holidays. But you go have fun with _Potter_ , now, and watch your back around those two." He glances pointedly to Sirius and me, his cheeks tinged faintly red. And with that, he turns on his heel in a whirl of black Hogwarts' robes, stomping off down the corridor.

Lily glances at the two of us, her face open and surprised. "He's being rather moodier than usual, isn't he?"

I exchange a glance with Sirius, who replies, "If you ask me, he's being too polite. I don't like it."

She furrows her brow at Sirius and says, "Too polite? He's never been that rude to me, not if you four haven't already started something." Her expression grows suspicious. "You haven't, have you?"

"No," I reply instantly. "It's not as if I can afford to."

She nods slowly, pulling on a strand of her auburn hair. "I suppose he's angry after that stunt you pulled, Sirius."

"I think he would have shown a bit more bite if you hadn't been here," I tell her. "I have to hand it to him, he's keeping his promise. I don't think he knows that you know about me."

"Well, that and he's got his crush on her," Sirius adds, darkly amused.

Lily's eyes widen for a second, and then she frowns thoughtfully. "I suppose I've suspected as much..." She sighs, tapping her fingertips against her lower lip. "I feel awful for him. I wish he'd find a nice Slytherin girl to like, preferably one who likes him in return."

Sirius barely conceals his snort, and I know exactly what he's thinking: _A nice Slytherin girl? Moreover, one to like Snape? What are the chances of that?_ Privately, I agree, but I don't say anything—and, wisely, neither does Sirius.

After a moment of standing in silence, I nudge Sirius and murmur quietly to the both of them, "We'd better wake James. He'll want breakfast, and probably a shower."

Before we can start moving, though, a harassed-looking girl stumbles out of the Great Hall, muttering to herself. I recognize her as Jenn, a Hufflepuff in the year above Angie, also on the Quidditch team; when she sees me, she blushes faintly, stiffens her resolve, and walks straight up to me. I watch her, slightly confused, as she stops right in front of me and asks, "Would you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

I hear Sirius snicker, but Lily elbows him in the ribs rather roughly, which shuts him up. I gape at the girl for a second before shutting my mouth and replying, "Er... Sorry, Jenn, but... I'm already going with someone."

She rolls her eyes and starts muttering phrases under her breath that sound suspiciously like she's coming up with ways to maim Peter Pettigrew. I close my mouth tight to keep from laughing and catch her arm as she whirls around to march back toward the Great Hall, asking, "Did Peter put you up to this?"

She turns back to me, scowling, and says, "Yes. 'But he doesn't have anyone to go with! He's helping his friends go with dates, and he needs someone to go with, too!' I'll kill the little prat..."

This is very unusual—and amusing—behavior coming from a Hufflepuff, so I guess that Peter must have pestered her for a record amount of time... and that's saying something, knowing Peter. I grin a little and say, "I'm sorry. He didn't know—he didn't mean it."

She only looks dimly calmed by my words, but she rolls her eyes once more and gives a resigned nod. "Alright, I won't strangle your friend. Now, would you let me go?" She glances down, and I notice that I'm still holding onto her arm. I let go hastily, and she raises an eyebrow at the three of us before going back into the Great Hall.

"Now how did _she_ get into Hufflepuff?" Sirius asks quietly, sniggering under his breath.

"Beats me, but we'd better go get James," I say, checking my watch. Lily, looking highly amused, nods her agreement, and we set off for Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

_Padfoot_

Remus and I walk with James and Lily until we reach Hogsmeade, but just past the entrance, we say our goodbyes for the moment and split up. James and Lily head toward the Shrieking Shack. Remus and I trudge through the melting, dirty snow toward the center of town, but I'm not quite certain where we're headed, exactly. I cast a sidelong glance at Remus, but he doesn't look like he has any more of a destination in mind than I do.

With a groan and a roll of his eyes once we reach the busiest part of town, Remus admits with a grin, "I feel like Peter. I've already got to use the bathroom... Where's Wormtail, anyway?"

I shrug, my mouth twitching into a grin. "He's probably with the girl James and I set him up with, trying to convince her not to end the date early..." At Remus' plainly not amused glance, I hold up my hands and say innocently, "Joking, joking! But really, he's probably with Angie."

Remus nods. He glances around at the shops for a moment, eyeing the Valentine's Day decorations in the windows.

I point out a tea shop, grimacing at the garish decorations, and tell Moony, "They'll have to have bathrooms, the number of nervous couples frequenting the place..." Remus rolls his eyes at my teasing comment, but he nods and we make our way through the entrance.

The place smells of perfume, tea, and chocolate, the mix of scents just a tad too strong for my liking. It's festooned with pink, red, and white in various shapes, most commonly hearts, and there are a handful of chubby cherubs bearing bows and arrows scattered about. At the small, circular tables (draped in pink and white checkered tablecloths), there are couples making love-eyes at each other, and I barely contain a groan at one pair of fifth years snogging rather noisily in a corner of the room.

I exchange a glance with Remus, who looks highly amused at my reaction to the tea shop, and tell him with resignation, "I'll find a place to sit until you're done."

"Don't let it get to you, Padfoot," he tells me with mock seriousness in his voice, as if I'm about to go into a bloody battle. Then he smiles, winking, and goes to ask Madam Merriweather where her loo is. I shake my head to myself as I watch her grinning toothily at him, probably encouraging him to come to her tea shop anytime he wants to have a nice date with a pretty girl. At any rate, he looks highly amused as he skirts his way around the main crowd of the tea shop toward a doorway that must lead to the bathrooms.

I sit at the nearest empty table to wait; unfortunately, it isn't near the door. All of _those_ tables are taken, likely by uncertain couples in case someone makes a fool of himself and needs to make a run for it. I glance around, decide I'd rather not watch so many people enjoying themselves kissing each other rather overenthusiastically, and wait for Moony to return.

I hear the door to the shop open, and I drop my head to my arms on the table top— _another_ couple. Brilliant. Simply smashing. I'm shaking my head to myself when I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I look up, quite expecting Moony to have returned.

Wrong. A fifth year Ravenclaw stands over me, looking faintly nervous, and she asks, "Mind if I sit?" I open my mouth to reply, but she slides into the seat across from me before I can say anything, and my face falls into a dry expression. I prop my elbow on the table, resting my chin in my palm.

"Need anything?" I ask her idly, my eyes moving toward the doorway Moony left through. I'd really like to get out of here and go to Zonko's or something.

She takes me by surprise, leaning in quick as lightning and planting a quick kiss on my lips. Then she blushes furiously, leaning back in her seat, her eyes traveling up to the ceiling above us. I follow her gaze suspiciously, still slightly stunned by her quick move, and find a sprig of mistletoe hanging above the table. "Oh, _of course_ ," I groan, rolling my eyes.

"Er..." She watches me nervously, and I can tell she's expecting something. _Oh, bloody hell..._

Moony emerges from the back of the shop, and I let out a highly relieved breath of air— _finally_ , now we can get out of here. But what about this Ravenclaw? Sara, I recall. I watch her for a moment as Remus approaches, and when he reaches the table, he looks between the two of us and asks, "Am I missing something?"

I close my eyes, half-amused and half-exasperated, as I point up at the mistletoe above the table. Obviously Remus sees it, because I can hear the amusement in his voice when he comments, "Isn't mistletoe supposed to be a Christmas tradition?"

"Madam Merriweather puts it up around Valentine's Day, too, because it's romantic," Sara replies quietly, nervous. "Sirius...?"

I look at Remus, pleading for help, but he just grins teasingly at me. He plucks a berry from the sprig of mistletoe and says, "Well, that's four more kisses before this mistletoe loses its magic." Finally he has mercy on me and turns to the Ravenclaw girl, telling her, "Sorry, Sara, but Sirius is taken at the moment. Otherwise I'm _sure_ he'd be much more polite about all this."

Sara blushes vividly and murmurs a faint apology under her breath. "I just thought... sitting here alone... er..." And with that, she gives a hasty wave and leaves the shop.

Remus bites his lip to contain a grin, and I just give him a falsely sour look as he slides into the seat Sara has just left. "Let's see... that brings your tally up to four this week. And it's Valentine's—Siri, I think you might be losing your touch!"

I give him a sarcastic grin and tease, "You must be rubbing off on me." He takes it in good humor, and I can't help but give a genuine smile. Where Remus might have been worried by the girls inviting me to do something for Valentine's this week, he has instead been highly amused.

Remus plays with the mistletoe berry between his fingers, rolling it around thoughtfully. I watch him with a grin pulling at the corners of my mouth. He's adorable, really, and I don't see why he's ever had trouble with girls. I suppose it's that he's never been really interested in them. Maybe they catch that vibe and decide to leave him alone.

I glance up at the mistletoe, then back at Remus, who meets my eyes curiously at the expression on my face. I lean forward across the table, catching his lips for a quick kiss; his eyes follow mine as I pull back, and he gives me a curious look before glancing around the tea shop and blushing faintly. I bite back a grin and stand up, plucking another berry from the sprig of mistletoe. "C'mon, Moony, let's get out of here."

He nods, standing to follow me to the door. He's still looking around a bit, but I nudge him and say, "They're too busy snogging to notice anything else, Rems." He gives a short laugh, but we both stop at the knowing look on Madam Merriweather's face when we pass her. I watch her apprehensively.

"What?" she asks. "I'm not saying anything. Go on, have fun, you two." She winks, and as Remus and I turn and slowly move toward the door, I distinctly hear her murmur to herself, "Such a cute couple..."

Even I blush at that.

* * *

If James, Lily, Remus, Peter, and Angie's faces are anything to judge by, my cheeks are flushed red after our snowball fight, and I look a complete—but satisfied—mess. My robes are damp and splotched with snow as we trudge back toward Hogwarts, but I'm not cold. I'm laughing breathlessly with everyone else after the furious snowball war we've just finished.

It's getting on toward evening, so we decided to head back to the school, though our progress is slow and marked by sudden snowballs hitting someone and restarting brief wars. James has his arm around Lily's shoulders, now, and they both look as flushed and excited as the rest of us. I can tell that Angie has found Peter to be a nicer date than she expected, though I have the feeling that she's still content just with the one date as a favor to James and me. Peter looks ecstatic, his blond hair matted on one side by snow.

I grin over at Remus as I catch my breath, continuing to trudge toward Hogwarts in the muddy tracks of students who have gone before us. He grins back, laughing, and flicks a small snowball at me with his wand. It catches me in the chest before I can get my own wand out, and I just give him a wry smile and tell him, "You know I'll get you back when you aren't expecting it."

"You'll try," Remus replies teasingly. His eyes glint in the slowly fading sunlight as he waves his wand at me, daring me.

Well, I know I can't surprise him now, of course, so I just walk a bit faster to catch up with him, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "Just you wait, my loony moony friend."

The six of us reach the stairs leading up to Hogwarts and make our way into the entrance hall, where we begin to split off. Peter and Angie head to the Great Hall for dinner, waving at us as they enter the crowded hall; James and Lily head up to Gryffindor Tower for the last bit of James' Valentine's Day surprise for Lily, which requires that he retrieve his broom. I exchange a glance with Remus and suggest, "The kitchens? I'd rather nick some food than eat in the Great Hall."

Remus nods and we head down the stairs that lead both to the kitchens and to the Hufflepuff common room. We walk down the torch lit corridor in relative silence until we reach the painting of a silver fruit bowl, where we tickle the pear to enter the kitchens, and try to get in and out fairly quickly without being mauled by eager house elves trying to pile us down with food. They know us very well—we're commonly in the kitchens for food, along with James and Peter.

Once we've managed to escape without the elves giving us so much food we can hardly carry it, we head for Gryffindor Tower, passing cheery paintings of food along the way until we reach the ground floor again and head up the marble staircase in the entrance hall. Remus balances a sack of sandwiches on one arm as he uses his free hand to eat an apple, the crunch of the fruit echoing in the sparsely populated corridors we move through on our way to our common room. I busy myself with a muffin from the bag I'm carrying, grinning over at Remus through my food.

When we reach the Fat Lady, we find that her portrait is still decked out in Valentine's Day decorations. She's wearing a frilly pink dress and waving a pink fan with white hearts on it at us. "Hello, boys," she greets us cheerfully, her cheeks rosy. "How was your holiday? Did you both go on nice dates?"

I exchange a glance with Remus, fighting back my laughter by biting into my muffin again. Remus replies, "Yes, lovely ones—rosa eglanteria." I finish off my muffin, grinning to myself, and grab a sandwich from Remus' bag as the Fat Lady beams at us, swinging forward on her hinges to allow us into the common room.

We head directly for the dormitory through the nearly empty common room, each of us now working on a sandwich. I'm nearly full. We'll end up leaving most of the food from the kitchens in our dormitory.

Remus opens the door to our dorm, but then stops, flushing. I give him a curious glance and then look past him—lying on Robert Long's bed, snogging furiously, are Robert and his girlfriend Violet. Hearing the creak of us standing in the doorway, they both jump, pulling apart to look at us.

"Er... Sorry about this," I murmur bemusedly, and I shut the dormitory door, turning to look at Remus. We both burst out laughing, but he attempts half-heartedly to keep quiet, while I just make my way back down to the common room with Remus on my heels.

* * *

I grin as we reach the Room of Requirement, fully expecting Remus to have forgotten about our snowball war by now. As we open the room's door, though, I promptly forget about it, too.

The place is beautiful. It doesn't look like a room; it looks like we've stepped outside, only the snow on the ground is glistening white and new... and much warmer than natural snow. The place is slightly cool, but not uncomfortable. On the contrary, I feel completely at ease the moment the door shuts behind us. It's as if we've stepped into a twilit glade with trees rising around us, fireflies flitting amongst them despite the enchanted snow on the ground. It's something we'd never see in nature, and it's beautiful. I put a hand on Remus' arm, staring around to take it in.

"It's never done this before," he murmurs, and I look back over at him. He looks as amazed as I am. I wasn't expecting this; I was expecting a pile of enchanted snow to appear in a corner. But now the snowball fight seems far away, unimportant.

"This is beautiful," I whisper.

"How...?"

"Who cares?" I cut him off, facing him with a smile on my face. The soft, quiet light of this place lights up his features with an ethereal beauty. I wish he could see himself, because he looks extraordinary. "This is for us." I know it with absolute certainty. I don't know why, I don't know how, but this place is for us.

Remus smiles and wraps his arms around me in a tight hug, resting his cheek on my shoulder. I put one arm around his back and weave the fingers of my opposite hand through his hair. It smells sweet and rich, like the taste of chocolate. I kiss the back of his neck and smile against his skin. "Remus..."

But he stops me from speaking, taking his head from my shoulder and pulling back to look me in the eye. After a brief, eternal moment in which my heart seems to stop beating, he leans forward, moving his arms around my neck and pressing his mouth to mine. I kiss him gently but insistently, and he returns my ardor, leaning his body against mine. Our body heat mingles and rises. If the snow wasn't enchanted, it would surely melt. The soft noise in my throat is muffled against Remus' lips...

Tongue, wet and warm, gentle, teasing, moving, exploring, reaching... hands, holding, pulling, fiery, need... and snow... cloud-soft and cool as we lie in it... lost...

 _You're mine, you're mine, you're mine, and I'm yours, can we stay—right here—now—always—forever—_   


	13. Interlude : 1994

_1994_

_Of course I want to see you. But it's not exactly safe to be caught with me, is it? It's all up to you. If you're sure... The old haunt. Tomorrow. Late._

_— Padfoot_

_Moony_

The note is in my pocket, and I'm sitting on one of the less dilapidated pieces of furniture in the Shack, though it still creaks ominously under my weight. The whole place is in disrepair.

I worry my wand between my fingers, twirling it, senses keen in the darkness. Worried for Sirius. I'm not worried that he won't show up. I know he will, if he can. He's always been a little too foolhardy for his own good. But while the dementors have left Hogsmeade, there is still the chance that he might get caught. And so I worry, and I wait.

It's nearly midnight when the black dog slips into the room, all but invisible in the shadows. Tonight is dark enough; there is only a sliver of moon in the sky, and the stars are dimmed by the heavy, foggy air. He would be nearly unnoticeable roaming the streets of Hogsmeade, though he has to be especially careful now—Wormtail might find Voldemort any time and rejoin him, and then any Death Eater will know Sirius' Animagus form. Then if he's spotted prowling the streets it could be fatal.

"Sirius," I murmur quietly, and he stares at me for a moment before changing back into human form. He still looks an awful mess—and hollow, depressingly hollow after Azkaban. But he's still Sirius, and so he's still beautiful.

He strides over to me, wraps his arms around me, and says hoarsely, "I'm glad you came."

I smile into his mat of hair, all of it long and tangled after years in Azkaban and months on the run. He feels bone-thin—thinner than I am, and a werewolf's salary hardly pays for a healthy diet all the time. "Did you really think you needed to worry?"

He pulls back and smiles, but even through the light dancing in his eyes, making him look almost as I remember him, I can still see the empty darkness Azkaban has put in him. "No. But if we get caught together..."

"Don't worry about that. Let's just get out of here. Somewhere safer." I walk to the window and peer outside, checking to make sure no one is about.

Sirius nods when I look back at him and says, "I want to go somewhere warmer." He shivers, and that hollow look in his eyes intensifies. He must be remembering the dementors. He spent twelve years guarded by the creatures, and it's hard enough to endure a minute around one. I don't think there's enough chocolate in London to cure him of what the dementors have done to him.

"We'll stop at my house first," I tell him. "Stay there a night or so. Then we can head south."

"I'll take Buckbeak," he says. "You Apparate."

I shake my head at him, and feel a curious tightening in my chest. No. I don't want to separate. I've been apart from Sirius for long enough, thinking he betrayed his friends. Thirteen years is more than enough wasted time. "I'll ride with you." I smile and add, "I've wanted to ride a hippogriff since Hagrid brought his lot in." Besides, Sirius doesn't know where I live now.

He smiles, and I know he can see straight through my hippogriff excuse. "Well, come on, then. I'll take you to Buckbeak." He changes into Padfoot, looking up at me with liquid eyes that seem far less hollow than his human ones, and then leads me out of the Shrieking Shack.

* * *

Riding a hippogriff is decidedly less romantic than I was illusioned to think. It's an almost violent ride, with Buckbeak's flanks rising and falling to each beat of his wings, the wind whipping my hair about my face. Sirius is behind me, but his hair is long enough that it stings my cheeks in the grip of the wind. His arms are loose around my waist, and I keep feeling that he might fall off behind me, but apparently he is more accustomed to riding Buckbeak than I am.

I steer the hippogriff toward my house, and he takes command easily; he is most certainly intelligent. After an hour of flying, I can see my village in the distance, and I begin to direct Buckbeak toward it. My house is a small one on the outskirts, in a miserable state after being left abandoned for my year as a professor at Hogwarts, its yard overgrown and one of its windows broken. I steer Buckbeak to land in back, and as we circle lower, Sirius asks in my ear, "This is where you live?"

"It is," I reply loudly, so that my voice carries over the howling wind.

"It's smaller than I remember," he says uncertainly. I can hardly blame him. After twelve years in Azkaban, I would hardly trust parts of my memory.

"I've moved a few times since..." I trail off as we land, deciding not to bring up more painful memories. Sirius slides off Buckbeak's back, and I follow, feeling as if my legs will hardly support my weight after the long journey. "Well, it's getting even harder these days to be a werewolf and earn a living." I've had to move to continually smaller places. When James and Lily were alive, when Sirius was with us and everything was normal... or as normal as it could be, with Lord Voldemort gaining power... then, I could at least make a modest living. But since then, werewolves have become even more hated, and I haven't had friends as close and well-loved as James, Lily, and Sirius to vouch for me. But I've survived.

Sirius looks dimly relieved that his memory seems to be intact, and he nods, following as I head for the back door to unlock it.

* * *

"I know I look like I've come off the worse in a fight with a dragon," Sirius says when I suggest that he take a shower. We grin at each other, and I find myself surprised that he can use his familiar sense of humor after so long in Azkaban.

"All you need is a good washing up, some healthy eating, and maybe a haircut," I tell him anyway. In all honesty, I'm not sure how much that will help. He'll look more presentable, certainly, but a simple haircut won't get rid of those hollow eyes. This isn't like with the students at Hogwarts. A bit of chocolate and a Patronus won't help Sirius, not even seeing Harry's, no matter how pleased he would be to see Prongs in the shape of the boy's Patronus.

Sirius lifts his matted black hair, looking at it, and then grins at me with a hoarse, barking laugh. He doesn't say anything, but when his eyes flick to my hair, I understand. When we were younger, it used to mystify me how his hair would behave for him and look nice whatever he did to it. His expression says, _Look at my hair now._

I don't think it's funny, really. But the tightening in my gut whenever I'm reminded about the dark sides of what has happened—about what has happened in general, since it's all bad up until Sirius turning out innocent... It's a horrible feeling. And I don't want to feel horrible right now. I have Sirius back, and Harry is safe for the moment. For now, that's enough.

"Let me cut your hair," I tell Sirius. "Then you can take a shower."

He looks faintly surprised by the request bordering on command, but he nods and lets me lead him to the bathroom. I could use my wand to cut his hair, but I don't want to. I want to use scissors. So I fetch them from the kitchen, feeling the urge to do things the Muggle way, and take them to where I have Sirius sitting on a stool in the derelict bathroom. I don't bother combing through his hair at first; I cut it all off roughly even at his shoulders before I rummage through the drawers underneath my sink and manage to find a comb. I begin dragging it through Sirius' hair, and he winces.

"Trying to rip my scalp off, Rems?" he asks teasingly.

I lean over him, looking at him half-sideways and half-upside-down, and give him a grin. "What's the matter, not tough anymore? Lost your edge?" It feels good to be exchanging playful taunts with Sirius again. It reminds me that I'm not all adult, reduced to graying hair, shabby clothes, mature wisdom, anxiety, and wolfsbane potion once a month. I'm still Moony of the Marauders—I at least have a part of that carefree teenager in me.

Well, maybe not carefree. But my school years were the best of my life, and even with the full moon every month, I could still be a child.

"I hope you aren't butchering my hair," he says playfully.

I smile and reply, "I couldn't make it much worse than it already was."

I work the worst of his tangles out of his hair, and now that it has been straightened out, the ends are jagged and uneven from where I just cut it. I take the scissors to it again, cutting it shorter, into roughly the haircut he wore in school. When I'm finished, it doesn't look as nice as I remember, but I'm not sure if that's because I'm a horrible barber or because it, like the rest of Sirius, looks far more lifeless than I remember.

Finally I set down the scissors with a small sigh, stepping on piles of dark, matted hair on the bathroom floor. "Best I can do, Padfoot. I'm afraid you'll fire me as your barber."

But Sirius smiles without bothering to look at what I've done, putting a hand on the back of my neck and pulling me down until our faces are level. He kisses me; it's gentle but filled with a repressed sort of longing, an "I miss you" that could never be expressed quite the same way in words. With my eyes closed, he seems like the Sirius from thirteen years ago, before our fight, before James and Lily's wedding. Before their deaths. Before everything. I kiss back, my heart beating powerfully in my chest, and I feel whole for the first time in years. In all the world there is nothing... nothing but this kiss.

* * *

_Padfoot_

Remus breaks the kiss breathlessly, eyes fluttering open, and I see in them everything that was before the darkness—an escape from the dementors haunting the back of my mind, the memories, the guilt... Giving James and Lily to Peter and thus to Voldemort, losing Remus, never getting the chance to make up for some stupid fight I don't even remember the reason for—

"I'm sorry," I say abruptly, watching Remus with the painful memories twisting in my heart. I feel like if I only kiss him again, all the pain will go away, but I can't do that until I know that I'm forgiven.

"For what?" Remus asks softly, squatting in front of me so that he has to look up at me a little as I sit on the stool where he cut my hair.

"For... for whatever the fight was about. I don't even remember. I've regretted it every day... that, and making Wormtail Secret Keeper... Every day in Azkaban. Both. Round and round. Always." Remus looks at me as if I'm half mad. I feel half mad. "I never meant it, I never do, and I'm sorry."

Remus puts a hand against my cheek and whispers, "That's all gone, now. It doesn't matter. Just... take a shower, get cleaned up, and... that's all, for now. Don't worry about anything else."

I can't bear to be apart from him right now. I stand up, pull him to his feet, and wrap my arms around him. He still smells like chocolate, like I remember, but stronger now. I smile against his neck as I remember the cure for an encounter with a dementor. _You're my cure, Remus._ I look up, pull my head back to look him in the face, and tell him, "Only if you come with me."

He smiles and steps away from me, clearing my hair from the bathroom floor with a sweep of his wand. He moves to the shower and plays with the tap, turning the water on; it rattles through the pipes for a moment, and when it first begins to spray out of the shower head, it's spastic and tinged brownish yellow. It takes a few minutes for it to begin flowing steadily and turn clear. I step up beside Remus as he taps the shower head with his wand, mumbling something under his breath, probably to warm the water.

When he turns back to me, I grab him, pulling him into another kiss. I trail kisses down the side of his neck as I'm pulling on his robes, and then over his shoulders once I've bared them. He pulls on my robes, as well, yanking the tattered gray things off, his lips tickling against my ear. I taste him... my chocolate, my cure, my Remus, who I've missed so much—

He steers me under the water, and the warmth spilling down my back, over my hair and shoulders, everywhere touching bare skin, feels wonderful. The cold, dark memories of Azkaban are carried away, stolen on the backs of steaming water droplets trailing down skin, all the way to the drain and gone forevermore.

* * *

We go south, somewhere tropical—exactly where doesn't matter. Everything's hot and suggestive and _alive_ , here in this place where the dementors could never survive. Colors, everywhere. No black, except me—black hair, black name, but Remus doesn't mind, so it doesn't matter.

For a week there's nothing but an adult, in-love sort of innocence. No darkness to worry about—it's all far away. Remus buys everything with money from my Gringotts account. We don't need much, just a place to stay and food to eat. That's all that matters, except each other.

And we talk. About Harry, and how like his father he is—Remus tells me all about him. But we never stay on the subject too long, or it will lead into the dark places. Dying and betrayal and Azkaban.

But it can't last forever, of course. We have to think of other things, important things—the letters to and from Harry, careful to give away nothing that could turn dangerous if the letter's intercepted. I can't even tell him Remus is with me. I don't want to get Moony in trouble, and if someone intercepts our letter to Harry, they will know exactly who to look for to find me. Remus would be 'aiding the enemy'. I smile bitterly at the thought. The Ministry, it seems, wouldn't know the enemy if it bit them in the arse these days.

Remus stirs beside me, and I turn to him, my smile turning soft. He looks awful; the full moon is near. The nightmares he had for a time in school are gone, but he still doesn't sleep well, and the coming change always affects his eating. I brush his hair off his forehead, noting again the silver there. He is older. Sometimes I can hardly believe twelve years have passed with me locked away in Azkaban.

Remus' eyes open, and he looks over at me, smiling. "Morning," he greets me as he shifts under the covers, putting a warm hand on my chest.

I lean forward, kissing him, and then murmur, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replies softly.

I rest my head on his chest, tracing lazy circles on his bare ribs for a while until I notice the gooseflesh rising over his skin. I smile to myself and kiss his chest, inhaling the deep scent of chocolate. I look up at him, and he's watching me with his smile, the one that's so familiar and comforting. "The dementors couldn't touch you," I tell him softly, idly. Nothing so dark could affect someone like Remus. He's their antithesis. He's the cure.

He raises an eyebrow at me and asks, "Why's that?"

I simply smile and kiss his chest again, then move up to his lips, running the tip of my thumb gently over the side of this face. After a moment, I pull up and ask him, "Did you know you smell like chocolate?"

He doesn't answer, just pulls me down for another kiss.  


	14. Apart

_Last Day of Term, June (Sixth Year) (Full Moon)_

_Moony_

I wake instantly and completely, sitting bolt upright, and I feel Sirius' arm slip from around my waist. He stirs in his sleep and begins to wake as I'm trying to calm myself. My heart is thundering in my ears, my breathing is quick and shallow. A thin veil of sweat on my skin makes me feel cold and clammy. Already the nightmare is gone—I don't even remember what it was.

We're in the dormitory. In the same bed. What was Sirius thinking? I can just picture the gawking if Robert or Peter wake up. Even James, honestly.

Sirius lifts his head to look at me blearily and asks, "Remus?"

I'm starting to feel calm again, and I manage to ask him in a soft voice, "What're you doing over here?" I glance over to his empty bed, its covers messy and half falling off the bed.

"You were having a nightmare," he answers just as quietly, as if that answers everything. In a way, I suppose it does. I can't help smiling, grateful for the caring gesture. He frowns a little to himself and then adds, "You haven't had nightmares around the full moon in months. What's wrong?" He sits up, turning to face me with his legs crossed. I mimic him so that we're sitting with our knees touching.

He's right; I haven't had nightmares since winter—since Sirius pulled that thoughtless prank on Snape. There's a gnawing feeling in my belly, but I don't know exactly why I've started having nightmares again. I look around, but even James hasn't stirred. It's not quite dawn yet. Finally I reply, "I'm not sure."

"Why were you having nightmares before?" Sirius presses, watching me with intent gray eyes.

Good question. I never really thought about it, but in retrospect, I have an inkling of what plagued my unconscious mind. Dreams of hurting my friends during the change, when I'm not quite myself—but more than that. I felt as if I was only the werewolf. That was the only part that mattered. I felt like Sirius, James, and Peter hung around with me because of what I become on the full moon, and not only did it sting—I was afraid that the part of me they liked best would destroy them. Feeling Sirius' concerned gaze, remembering the last few months, I know that I don't have to worry about that now. So why are the nightmares back? "That was back when I was afraid you took me for granted," I attempt to explain. "I thought... the werewolf... Well, it was because of the werewolf that you became Animagi, because of the werewolf that we could create the Marauder's Map."

There's a faint edge of disbelief in his expression. "You know we never felt that way," he says, but it's half a question. I nod; of course I know. And he continues, "I've seen you when you're just the werewolf, and it scares me. I hate it when you aren't in control."

I lower my gaze, my nostrils flaring a little, and I murmur, "I hate it, too. It's terrifying. I was always afraid the werewolf would take over and I would hurt you. I still am afraid, sometimes. I hate having a monster inside me."

Sirius ducks his head low, forcing me to meet his gaze, and once I'm looking at him he tells me seriously, "Everyone has a monster inside. Yours is just more obvious. And you can control yours better than most people who aren't forced to change into a werewolf once a month."

I give a faint smile and nod.

"But that isn't what the nightmares are about now, is it?" This time, Sirius' question is half a statement.

No, it's not. If it was, they never would have stopped in the first place. I draw my lower lip between my teeth thoughtfully. What's different now?

 _Today is the last day at Hogwarts_ , my mind volunteers, and my stomach drops like a stone. We're only leaving for the summer, and since we were allowed to take our Apparating tests early so that I could stay an extra night at Hogwarts for the full moon, I suppose we can visit each other whenever we like. Still, it feels like an end to something. "After tonight, we'll all go home, and you will spend the summer with James..." Ah, there it is.

Sirius hides a small smile that is strangely adult, which seems like the most backward thing in the world on his face. He's a prankster, and rarely serious about anything, where I'm the prefect who worries about school and the full moon every month, so how did I get to be the 'child' in this situation? "You don't need to worry, Rems. James will be off half the summer pestering Lily until she's entirely sick of him, and we can visit each other any time we like."

"It still feels like an end. Summer..." I'm surprised at how much I've picked up from others' relationships when I've only had one serious one of my own—this one. The one that's still ongoing. "Summer is when so many couples break up or get together. You hardly see a couple together at the end of one year that's still together at the beginning of the next."

He gives me his characteristic grin, the one with a hint of mischief in it, and replies, "Not many people know we're together, do they? Maybe it's all the ones we don't know about that last."

I have to smile at his reasoning. "Maybe," I agree.

"Besides," he teases, wrinkling his nose, "if you're worried about me liking James—don't." He makes a gagging noise. "He's more my brother than Regulus is... Sorry, but I don't think I'll be snogging my brother anytime soon."

I wrinkle my nose in agreement and laugh. "Let's hope not."

* * *

_Padfoot_

Breakfast was cheery; that's to be expected, with the free day to follow, giving students the chance to say their goodbyes and have their last bit of fun before going home.

Dinner, though, is a little more depressed. The Slytherin table is the only one that doesn't seem to be buzzing with an intense, nervous sort of muted excitement—or maybe anxiety is the better word. All the attacks we've been hearing about all year—all of Voldemort's moves—they suddenly seem more real. We're about to go home, where we will be in as much danger as any other witch or wizard of finding ourselves on the receiving end of one of Voldemort's attacks. During the school year, we were safe. At home...

The Slytherins, though, look almost smug. Most of them, at least. I'll eat James' glasses if half of them aren't the children of Death Eaters, and I'll bet a lot of them are Death Eaters themselves, or close to it. Even Regulus doesn't look remotely worried. Our parents aren't Death Eaters, but dear old mum and dad—may they rot in hell—think Voldemort has the right idea. Purity of blood and all.

James looks particularly worried. For Lily, I'm sure, even though he looks more anxious than she does. Where Voldemort would have no qualms killing any one of us Marauders, at least we're from wizarding families. Lily, being Muggle-born, is probably at greater risk than we are.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Lily reassures James, but while she looks decidedly less apprehensive than Prongs, she still doesn't have the customary sparkle of laughter in her bright eyes.

I glance around the Hall, taking in the Ravenclaw colors. Gryffindor probably could have won the House Cup if it wasn't for us Marauders stirring up trouble all the time, but everyone's happy enough that the Slytherins didn't get the cup. Still, that doesn't stop Gryffindors from shooting James, Remus, Peter, and me half-amused looks of admonishment.

I'm sitting next to Remus, who looks quiet and pensive playing with his food. He's hardly eating anything, but there have been worse months. Sometimes around the full moon he has to force himself to get down a small meal a day. James and Lily are across from us, and Lil is watching Remus with concern on her face, but she knows the routine around the full moon by now as well as we do. She doesn't say anything to him.

Once the majority of us have eaten our fill, Dumbledore stands to get our attention. The Great Hall falls silent as everyone waits for him to speak. He runs his fingers through his long white beard for a moment before he says in a slightly somber voice, "I'm afraid we've reached the close of another year. Tomorrow, you will all be packing your trunks and heading home on the Hogwarts Express...

"These are dark times, and I wish you all a safe summer. I'm sure I will see each of your faces back next year, your heads properly emptied over the summer so that you are ready for another year of learning." He looks to either side at the teachers sharing the Staff Table with him and gives a small smile.

Turning back to the students, he finishes, "But enough of my rambling. Spend this last night at Hogwarts well, and I'll see you next year." With that, he sits down to applause—not as enthusiastic as at previous feasts of the year, but applause all the same.

I lean my head forward between James, Lily, and Remus as I murmur, "We should probably go. Madam Pomfrey will be waiting." Remus puts down his fork on a half-empty plate as he stands, Lily, James, and I following suit. We make our way out of the Great Hall; we aren't the only ones doing so, but the majority of students remain in the hall to socialize. It will probably still be crowded late into the night.

We meet Madam Pomfrey at the entrance to the castle, and she smiles warmly at us. "Now, remember," she says as we reach her, "you lot can still take the Hogwarts Express tomorrow morning if you like—Dumbledore just thought you might not like to rush after a night like you'll have." The last part is addressed to Remus, of course; it took a bit of pleading to let James, Lily, and I stay as well when there didn't seem to be much point. We didn't want Remus to be alone, but Madam Pomfrey had pointed out that he would be alone anyway for the night... so we convinced her that he might like to see some friendly faces the next morning. We took our Apparating tests in case we sleep past the departure time of the Hogwarts Express—otherwise Peter might have stayed, too, but he hasn't passed his test yet.

Remus nods at Madam Pomfrey and tells her, "I'm ready."

She smiles at him and tells the three of us who are to remain behind, "I hope you don't mind staying in the Hospital Wing... I thought it might be easier than having you stay in your dormitories."

"That'll be fine," Lily says, returning Madam Pomfrey's smile.

"Alright, then. Go ahead and bring your things to the Hospital Wing while I take care of Remus." She shoos us away, leading Moony out across the grounds.

* * *

"You can't just sneak off," Lily murmurs as we wait in the Hospital Wing for Madam Pomfrey. She is cross-legged on a bed, and James and I are sitting on our trunks in front of her. "Madam Pomfrey will check on us during the night—you know how she is. I'll have to find a way to cover for you."

James is shaking his head slowly, looking thoughtful. After a moment, he looks at me and asks, "Do you think Moony will mind if only you show up? Lily shouldn't have to cover for us alone. I can stay behind, and then we can say you've gone to the bathroom if Madam Pomfrey notices you're gone."

He's right, of course. Madam Pomfrey will definitely notice if two of us go missing. We'll be lucky if we can get away with just me leaving without her finding out. I nod, frowning, and say, "That's probably best. I'll stay with you until it's dark. We can play Exploding Snap or something. Then I'll 'go to bed' for the night... right?"

Lily nods her agreement, but turns her gaze to James and asks, "Are you sure you don't want to go? I can cover for the both of you. Might take a little Charms work, but I can if you want to stay with Remus."

"No, it's fine," he replies with a smile, adjusting his glasses over his hazel eyes. "Besides," he adds in a teasing undertone, "this way the couples get some alone time together."

Lily laughs and smacks his arm in mock admonishment, but nods. "Alright, then. Well. Who's up for a round of Exploding Snap? Or maybe Wizard's Chess?"

"Exploding Snap," I reply immediately. "So we can all play." In truth, I'm not very good at chess, nor do I particularly like it. I used to have a set, but my pieces never learned to trust me and were always shouting about what an idiot I was whenever I moved them. I think my mother may have put them up to it, though.

Lily nods, grinning, and smacks playfully at James' leg until he moves off of his trunk so that she can open it up and retrieve his Exploding Snap deck. She rummages through robes and underwear alike, completely unabashed, though I note amusedly out of the corner of my eye that James is blushing a little.

Once she's found the deck of highly volatile cards and reorganized James' underwear so that she can close his trunk without having to sit on it and force the latch shut, we play until well after sundown. James ends up with soot on his glasses more than once, and Lily singes the tips of her hair. I somehow manage to singe my nose hair—no idea how—which James and Lily find highly amusing. I keep wrinkling my nose at the smell of burnt hair until I finally take some water and rinse my face, hoping it will dampen the smell.

Madam Pomfrey even joins us for a round of the game, but she decides to quit while she's ahead after Lily's highly excitable cards leave a burn mark on her robes. She retires to her office, smiling her amusement at us; once she's been gone for a while, James, Lily, and I wrap up our round of Exploding Snap so that I can take James' Invisibility Cloak and sneak out of the castle to spend the night in the Shrieking Shack with Moony.

James helps me arrange some pillows on a Hospital Wing bed, Transfiguring the top one to sprout a bit of black hair. I can't help but laugh a little at the sight of a pillow growing hair. We pull the blankets up until only a little of the hair peeps out of the top, and then James digs his Invisibility Cloak out and hands it to me.

"Good luck," I murmur to him, grinning before I pull the cloak over me. Then, brushing past him on my way out, I whisper in his ear: "Have fun with Lily."

He glares at the spot where I was a moment ago as I slip over to the door of the wing. "See you in the morning," I tell them both.

"See you," Lily replies brightly, and they both wave at what looks like nothing as I sneak out of the Hospital Wing.

***

It isn't until I wake in the morning, muzzle resting on Remus' chest, that I realize we slept through most of the night. For a full moon, this is very unusual, but it's a nice change. I start to smile, but it doesn't quite work out well in dog form, so I change back to human. The strong scent of Remus dulls. He still smells of chocolate, though. I rest my cheek against his chest, one arm cast casually over his belly.

After a few moments, he stirs, waking. I hear his soft moan as sleep falls away, and then I feel his fingers in my hair, gentle and tickling. I raise my head to look up at him, smiling.

"Good morning," he murmurs, hand falling from my hair to my cheek.

"Morning," I reply. I slowly sit up, looking around at the early morning light streaming in through the Shrieking Shack's windows. Remus follows suit, stretching and groaning after the night of sleeping on hard floor. "Sleep well?" I ask him, half-teasing.

"Very," he replies, grinning.

I give him a coy smile and reach out, pulling him close to me. "Good." He looks better than I remember after a full moon; he still looks a little tired, but his brown eyes are light with life and his color is already returning. I smile and kiss his neck; he lifts my face until our lips are touching and kisses me. I return the kiss, nibbling on his lower lip a little and grinning against his mouth until the kiss resumes, warmth and tongues and all.

I hear Lily clear her throat from behind Remus, and I pull back, looking over his shoulder at her. She grins at me, giving a wave, and says, "Terribly sorry to interrupt, but we thought we'd get here early so it wouldn't look so suspicious that your hairy pillow was sleeping in like a great lump..." She pulls on James' arm, and he appears in the doorway, looking slightly embarrassed. He may be fine with Remus and me by now, but that doesn't stop him from blushing anytime he walks in on us. Of course, I think he might blush walking in on any couple snogging, so that doesn't particularly bother me.

"You were up early," Remus says, turning to face them. His cheeks have the faintest trace of pink to them, but otherwise he looks completely normal. Well, aside from the fact that he's only in his pants. "It's not even breakfast time, and it had to take you forever to get here."

Lily shrugs and smiles. "I'll get to sleep in all summer. I thought I ought to get up early one last time, for old time's sake." She flicks her wand, and four trunks float past her into the Shack. "We've brought everything, so we can leave anytime. I thought it might be fun to spend the day in Hogsmeade, though."

"Yeah, but we can leave you here if you need some time alone," James says, recovering with the tease fully in place in his voice.

I exchange a glance with Remus, who shrugs. I take that as a yes and, grinning, tell James, "I'll see you back at your house."

The blush returns briefly to James' cheeks, but then he nods and tells Remus, "Come and visit any time this summer. We'll visit you, too, if you're away too long." He shakes his finger as if the last part is a threat, and I smile to myself. I think Lily's been lecturing him on including Remus. He takes out his wand and gestures to his and Lily's trunks, murmuring " _Locomotor Trunks_ " as he starts directing them out of the doorway. He tells me by way of explanation, "I think we'll leave these in the front room, come back for them later..."

I suppress a laugh, but nod and ask, "Did you get your cloak?"

"I did," he replies. "See you later."

He heads out the door, and Lily follows, casting over her shoulder, "You're welcome to visit me, as well, but I imagine I'll be with James most of the time."

"I'll see you," Remus says, waving as she retreats from view.

James and Lily's easy companionship, the way they seem to _fit_ , reminds me of the discussion Remus and I had yesterday morning. "So, Rems, you think Lily and James have one of those relationships that'll be over after the summer?" I ask him, idly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He turns back to look at me, giving me a crooked grin. "I get the point."

"Mm-hmm." I twirl his hair on my fingers; he pulls my hand away, murmuring something about it tickling. "You sure you feel better? You're not going to have any more nightmares, are you?"

"I don't think so," he replies, smiling.

I'm not quite satisfied. "Just remember that we can see each other all summer—even after next year, we can see each other whenever we want. It's never the end, you know." I remember the other part of what he told me, the werewolf. The monster everyone has inside—but that Remus has to become once a month. It isn't fair. The werewolf should be some Slytherin beast who doesn't even try to hide his inner monster, not Remus. Everyone has their inner demons—everyone has the heart of a werewolf. Remus' monster, though, doesn't come out but once a month, and even then he's mostly in control. The _real_ werewolves are the people who don't keep that monster inside while they have the opportunity.

"What're you thinking?" Remus asks quietly.

"About werewolves," I reply. "And you. And how it isn't fair that you had to be one when there are so many people who are more like werewolves than you are."

He grins and puts a hand to the back of my neck, drawing me forward until our lips meet in another kiss.  


	15. Epilogue : 1996

_1996_

_Moony_

I'm floating on the lake on my back, staring up at the stars. It's a full moon. It seems hazy, tinged a bit green. The world is blanketed in quiet. It feels eerie.

I feel a nudge against my back, and I'm being pushed toward shore, lifted out of the water. Once I'm standing in the shallows, Prongs steps around me—but it isn't Prongs. It's Harry's Patronus, silvery and ethereal. It tosses its head, antlers glistening against the velvet black sky, and then walks around me and back across the lake.

 _Remus—shouldn't you be the werewolf?_ I hear the voice echo through my mind—sinister, high, trembling. It's Wormtail's voice. My eyes rise fearfully to the moon...

Yes, I should be the werewolf. I haven't taken the wolfsbane potion! I'll be loose—on Hogwarts grounds—a werewolf—

The moon winks at me, as if it's laughing, and I feel the change set in. My bones are lengthening, my joints shifting, and fur sprouts from my skin in waves...

I look down, and there's Sirius standing in front of me, black wings spread out like he's some sort of dark angel—an angel of hell, and of Azkaban, and of my heart. He watches me with his heart in his eyes, dim against the backdrop of Hogwarts, as if he isn't quite real.

And his eyes close. He tilts slowly backward... falling... falling... through the veil...

He fades away, and all that's left is the stone archway, tattered veil fluttering on an unreal wind with whispered voices from a land beyond mocking the feelings in my heart.

_No, Sirius—you're not gone, you can't be—you can't be—_

I wake with a start, splashing the water in the tub and sending it sloshing over onto the floor. I've been sleeping long enough for the heat to fade so that the water is chill, but my heart feels colder.

Sirius is gone. I'm alone. There's the Order, there's Harry, but no one as close as Sirius. I smile bitterly, but my eyes are tickling with tears, and there's nothing to be done for the aching emptiness in my heart.

The house seems filled with whispers and dark murmurs. It's always been a dark place, bordering on evil, but it was Sirius' house, and he had control over it, however limited. Now, it rebels against those of us still living in it, and all of the dark magic hiding away in shadowed corners comes out. The portrait of Mrs. Black rarely shuts up, and Kreacher looks particularly pleased with himself. I don't know what's to be done with him, but a part of me—a loud, insistent part—cries that he be beheaded and placed on the wall with the long line of house elves that would be so proud of him. That part is what Sirius left in me, the mark of what the two of us shared—so close we sometimes blended together.

I'm trembling. The darkness of the house is closing in on me. It'll swallow me whole, if I allow it. And I want it to, a little. I don't want to remain. Not without Sirius.

But I'm not done here. There's the Order, and Voldemort is still on the loose. And Harry is nearly as shaken as I am by Sirius' death. In some ways, maybe more. He feels guilty, a little; he shouldn't, it wasn't his fault, but I understand the way he feels.

Icy chills run down my spine, and I know that I need to get out of here. Out of this bathroom—out of the house, if I can. I can't dwell. It's strangling my heart, allowing myself to remember Sirius, mourn Sirius, want Sirius—miss him horribly.

I have to do something else. Anything else. I stumble out of the claw-footed tub, splashing water all over the washroom. It sneaks across the floor, silent and imperceptible as death. I'm shaking as I dress, hardly dry, my robes clinging to my damp skin. I cast a fearful glance back at the bathroom, and then flee.

* * *

I try in vain to listen in the Order meetings, to focus on what's happening and distract myself from the one who's missing. I'm gone, though. Someplace distant. Some place where the memory of Sirius lurks, soothing and hurting, alluring and repulsive. He's alive in the halls of my heart, and it's tempting to dwell there with him, lost in myself. Gone forever from the world.

But this won't do. I can't be this way. People die, I tell myself. It has happened to others. Given time, I will get over it. Well... I will at least learn to survive.

It's no help.

In the end, I know that I need resolution.

I go to Dumbledore. I know I look awful. I haven't slept properly, not since... well... But Dumbledore looks at me, and I can tell he knows the way I'm feeling right now. He nods when I tell him I need to talk. And he waits for my request.

"I need to know the absolution spell," I murmur quietly, my voice hoarse. "Please."

He watches me over his half-moon glasses, those pale blue eyes of his lit with a strange light. I can see that he's concerned. He runs his fingers through his beard for a moment before responding, and then his voice is horribly somber. "I can teach it to you, but you must be certain you want to use it. It might help you, but it might also hurt you. With this spell, there is no middle ground."

I nod wearily. "I'm willing to take this risk," I say softly, but there's steel hiding in my voice. I'm sure. I need a change. If the spells hurts rather than helping, I'll deal with that when it comes.

"I will teach you," he says gently. "But before you use it, think of what Sirius would want." He doesn't wait for my answer; he launches into a quiet explanation of the spell. It sounds rather difficult, though not entirely complex. Once he finishes, I nod slowly, dully moving my wand in the motion he described. The incantation echoes in my mind, though I don't use it yet: _Endymonis Consulere_.

"Use it wisely, Remus," Dumbledore murmurs, watching me. "And good luck."

"Thank you," I whisper, and I watch his back as he sweeps away down the hall, his robes trailing behind him along the floorboards.

I turn and make my way to Sirius' room in a fog, hardly concentrating enough to put one foot in front of the other. Up the stairs. I pass Kreacher, and he's up to mischief, but I don't care. When I enter the room, I shut the door behind me, leaning my back against it and sliding down to the floor.

I put my forehead against my knees, trembling. My wand is in my fingers, twirling among them in an unconscious sort of anxious twitch. I sit in silence, shaking with an internal chill, for a long while, my mind flashing with images. The dream. The fight. Harry's face. Sirius falling through the veil.

Something shuffles in the corner, and I look up to see Buckbeak looking at me forlornly, shifting his wings. I give him a bleak, empty smile; he and Sirius had much in common. They identified. Both on the run for an unfair sentence, and both cooped up in this evil house.

He bows to me, and I stand up slowly, moving over to stand next to him. I run my hand along his head; his feathers are soft, and they tickle. He closes his large amber eyes, twitching his tail and snapping with his beak. I look around and catch sight of a bag of dead ferrets; I pick it up and throw one to Buckbeak, who snaps it up and swallows it whole.

"There you go," I murmur to him quietly, absently. I run my hand along his gray feathers and drop the bag of ferrets on the neighboring chest of drawers. "It's alright."

No, it's not. I wander away from Buckbeak, sitting on the edge of Sirius' bed and twirling my wand in my fingers, watching it, mesmerized. Nothing's alright. Everything's wrong. Sirius is gone, Voldemort is rising, no one is safe.

With a low sigh, I raise my wand. I concentrate on Sirius. It isn't hard to fix the image of him in my mind. He's laughing. He's alive, free from all of these worries. I wish he could have been. " _Endymonis Consulere_ ," I whisper, drawing the wand tip through the air. It takes enormous magical effort. I can feel it coursing through me, focusing at the wand's tip, until it slowly gains form.

In moments, Sirius is standing before me.

He's different. The right age, but he looks as he might have if he had never lived through Azkaban. There's none of that darkness in his eyes. He's smiling, but his smile falters when he sees me, and he sinks to his knees in front of me, putting a hand against my cheek. "Remus?"

"I miss you," I murmur softly, my heart aching.

"Don't," he says quietly, running his thumb across my cheek. "It's alright."

"It's not," I reply. I look up at him, and his eyes seem so strange without the hollowness hiding behind his usual glint of life. Behind him, Buckbeak scratches his talons against the floor, making a quiet keening sound.

Sirius lowers his hand and turns, looking back at Buckbeak, and he smiles sadly. He watches the hippogriff for a long moment before returning his gaze to me and asking softly, "You'll take care of him, won't you?"

"Of course," I whisper. When he doesn't say anything, just watches me, I ask him, "How is it that you're here?"

"It doesn't matter," he replies. But I know. He's composed of my memories. It's the spell. I ignore the murmuring in the back of my mind. _Endymonis Consulere... a spell... resolution... absolution... a spell..._

"I love you," I tell him, desperately, and I put my hand on his cheek. "I always have." Always. In our fights. With regret. In Azkaban. With guilt. And now... with horrible heartache.

"I love you, too, Remus," he says, an inexpressible sadness in his eyes. He leans forward.

Before our lips can touch, I break the spell. The wraith Sirius dissolves into sparkling dust, falling over my hand, into my lap.

I stare—for a long time I stare at nothing. I ignore the soft noises of Buckbeak's movement. All I can hear is in my own mind.

Not real. No replacements. There is no one else. He's gone. No fakes. Sirius. I love you, I miss you, and there is no one else. Ever.

I put my face in my hands... and I cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) I'd like to give a shout out to any guest readers. I was one of those on AO3 for a long time. Maybe, like me, some of you will join up eventually and share work of your own!
> 
> I'm proud of this story because it's the first one of any length I completed, but I also recognize its many flaws. I wrote it in 2005, and I've developed a lot as a writer since then. Perhaps one day I'll rewrite it, but perhaps not.
> 
> At any rate, if you enjoy my writing or want to see how it has grown, please do check out my other work! This is my only Harry Potter fanfiction, but I think you'll find that my Legend of Zelda fics are friendly to readers who haven't played the games, and I have original fiction on Wattpad (@karriezai).
> 
> Thanks again!


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